As for the little old gentleman, he held the curved knife out in front of him, all his thin fingers wound tightly around its hilt. "What's the Piper got beside him?" he asked in a tone full of wonder. "Is it a _rubber-plant?_"

Gwendolyn looked. The Piper was leaning over the steering-wheel of the car. He was so near by now that she could make him out clearly--a lanky, lean-jawed young man in a greasy cap and Johnnie Blake overalls. Over his right shoulder, on a strap, was suspended a bundle. A tobacco-pipe hung from a corner of his mouth. But it was evidently not this pipe that had given him his title; but pipes of a different kind--all of lead, in varying lengths. These were arranged about his waist, somewhat like a long, uneven fringe. And among them was a pipe-wrench, a coupling or two, and a cutter.

Beside him on the seat, in the foot man's place, was a queer object. It was tall, and dark-blue in color. (Or was it green?) On one side of it were what seemed to be seven long leaves. On the other side were seven similar leaves. And as the car rolled swiftly up, these fourteen long leaf-like projections waved gently.

She had no chance to examine the object further. Something else claimed her attention. The windowed door of the limousine suddenly swung wide, and through it, toward her, was extended a long black beckoning arm.

Next, a freckled face filled the whole of the opening, spying this way and that. It was Jane!

"Come, dearie," she cooed. (She had let go the front tongue-tip.) "I wouldn't stay with them two any more. Here's your beautiful car, love.

_This_ is what'll take you fast to your papa and mamma."

"_No!_" cried Gwendolyn. And to the Man-Who-Makes-Faces, "She was 'fraid of the Piper just a little while ago. Now, she's riding around with him. _I_ think he's--"

"Ssh!" warned the little old gentleman, speaking low. "We have to have him. And he has his good points."

The Piper was staring at Gwendolyn impertinently. Now he climbed down from his seat, all his pipes _tinkling_ and _tankling_ as he moved, and gave her a mocking salute, quite as if he knew her--yet without removing the tobacco-pipe from between his lips, or the greasy cap from his hair.

"Well, if here ain't the P.L.R.G.," he exclaimed rudely.

As she got a better view of him she remembered that she _had_ met him before--in her nursery, that fortunate morning the hot-water pipe burst. He was the very Piper that had been called in to make plumbing repairs!

"Good-evening," said Gwendolyn, nodding courteously--but staying close to the little old gentleman. For Jane had summoned strength enough to topple out of the limousine and teeter forward. Now she was kneeling in the road, crooking a coaxing finger, and gurgling invitingly.

The Piper scowled at the nurse. "Say! What do you think you're doin'?"

he demanded. "Singin' a duet with yourself?" Then turning upon the Policeman, "Off your beat, ain't you?" he inquired impudently; when, without waiting for an answer, he swung round upon the Man-Who-Makes-Faces. "Old gent," he began tauntingly, "I can't collect real money for that dozen ears." And threw out an arm toward the object on the driver's seat.

Gwendolyn looked a second time. And saw a horrid and unnatural sight.

For the object was a man, straight enough, broad-shouldered enough, with arms and legs, feet and hands, and a small head; but a man shockingly disfigured. For down either side of him, projecting from head and shoulders and arms, were ears--long, hairy, mulish ears, that wriggled horribly, one moment unfolding themselves to catch every sound, the next flopping about ridiculously.

"Why, he's all ears!" she gasped.

The little old gentleman started forward. "It's that dozen I boxed!" he announced. "Hey! Come out of there!"

Gwendolyn's heart sank. Now she knew. From the first her fear had been that one of the dreaded three would come and fetch her out of the Land before she could find her parents. And here, at the very moment when she hoped to leave the worst of the trio behind, here was another!--to hamper and tattle and thwart.

For the rubber plant was Thomas!

And now all at once there was the greatest excitement. The Man-Who-Makes-Faces seized Thomas by an ear and dragged him to the ground, all the while upbraiding him loudly. And while these two were occupied, the Piper swaggered toward the Policeman, his pipes and implements striking and jangling together.

"I want my money," he bellowed.

"I don't owe you anything!" retorted the Policeman.

All this gave Jane the opportunity she wished. She advanced upon Gwendolyn. "Come, sweetie," she wheedled. "Rich little girls don't hike along the streets like common poor little girls. So jump in, and pretend you're a Queen, and have a grand ride--"

Now all of a sudden a terrible inclination to obey seized Gwendolyn.

There yawned that door--here burned those reddish eyes, compelling her forward into a dreaded grasp--

She screamed, covering her face.

In that moment of danger it was the Policeman who came to her rescue.

Eluding the Piper, he ran, hand over hand, to the side of the car, balanced himself on his level head, and waved his club.

"Move on!" he ordered in a deep voice (precisely as Gwendolyn had heard officers order at crowded crossings); "move on, there!"

The limousine obeyed! With no one touching the steering-gear, the engine began to _chug_, the wheels to whirr. And purring again, like some great good-natured live thing, it gained momentum, took the road in a cloud of pink dust, and, rounding a distant turn, disappeared from sight.

CHAPTER XII

It occurred to Gwendolyn that it would be a very good idea to stop turning stones. The first one set bottom-side up had resulted in the arrival of Jane. And whereas the Policeman had appeared when the second was dislodged, here, following the accidental stub of a toe, were these two--the Piper and Thomas.

The Man-Who-Makes-Faces hurried across to her, his expression dubious.

"Bitter pill!" he exclaimed, with a sidewise jerk of the ragged hat.

"Gall and wormwood!"

"Oh, yes!" For--sure enough!--there _was_ an ill-flavored taste on her lips--a taste that made her regret having lost the candy.

Next, the Policeman came _tick-tocking_ up. "The scheme was to kidnap you," he declared wrathfully.

"And keep me from finding my fath-er and moth-er," added Gwendolyn. Now she understood why Jane was so pleased with the choice of the automobile road! And she realized that all along there was never any danger of her being kidnaped by _strangers_, but by the two who, their past ill-feeling evidently forgotten, were at this very moment chuckling and chattering together, ugly heads touching--the eary head and the head with the double face!

Seeing the Policeman and the little old gentleman in conversation with Gwendolyn, the Piper slouched over. "Look a-here!" he began roughly, addressing all three; "you're goin' to make a great big mistake if you antagonize a man that belongs to a Labor Union." (Just so had he spoken the day he fixed the broken hot-water pipe.)

"Bosh!" cried the Policeman. "What do we care about _him!_ Why, he'll never even get through the Gate!"

Gwendolyn was puzzled. _What_ Gate? And _why_ would Thomas not get through it? Then looking round to where he was conspiring with Jane, she saw what she believed was a very good explanation: He would never even get through the Gate because (a simple reason!) the _nurse_ would not be able to get through.

For by now Jane was not only as _round_ as a barrel, but she was fully as _large_--what with so much happy giggling over Thomas's arrival.

Moreover, having toppled sidewise, she _looked_ like a barrel--a barrel upholstered in black sateen, with a neat touch of white at collar and cuffs!

"He's been in trouble before," continued the Policeman, stormily. "But _this_ time--!" And letting himself down flat upon his head, he shook both neatly shod feet in the Piper's face.

It was now that Gwendolyn chanced, for the first time, to examine the latter's bundle. And was surprised to discover that it was nothing less than a large _poke-bonnet_--of the fluffy, lacy, ribbony sort. And she was admiring it, for it was of black silk, and handsome, _when something within it stirred!_

She retreated--until the night-stick and the kidnaper knife were between her and the poke. "Hadn't we better be st-starting?" she faltered nervously.

The Piper marked her manner, and showed instant resentment of it. "This here thing was handed me once in part-payment," he explained. "And I ain't been able to get rid of it since. Every single day it's harder to lug around. Because, you see, he's growin'."

At that, the Policeman and the Man-Who-Makes-Faces exchanged a glance full of significance. And both shrugged--the Policeman with such an emphatic upside-down shrug that his shoulders brushed the ground.

Gwendolyn's curiosity emboldened her. "_He?_" she questioned.

"The pig."