"Find it then!" returned Janet.
There came a tap at the door. "What's the matter, Fay?" asked a voice. "Why don't you come?"
"I'm coming," responded Fay. "Don't get impatient."
She looked at Janet, who grinned in response.
"I'm not going to be outdone by any poor fresh," said Fay. "You're entirely too smart. I am going to have that key."
She suddenly sprang from the bed, and before Janet could be aware of her intention, she had darted to the window-sill and returning, with one of Janet's own plasters, slapped it viciously upon her forehead. "There," she exclaimed, "you tell me where that key is."
In vain, Janet tried to free her hands to get at the plaster; she was at a disadvantage, for she was lying down with some one holding her and pressing her arms tightly to her sides. She bore herself bravely for a few minutes; then the mustard began to burn, and she called for help.
"Teddy, Teddy," she cried, "come take this thing off. A nightmare has possession of me."
Teddy came running to the rescue, but once, on the way, imprudently stepped on a bit of the fly-paper. She tore it off, and reached the bed where Janet, now really suffering from the mustard, was trying to struggle from her captor's grasp.
"Take it off, Teddy, quick," she cried; "the mustard is burning horribly."