Now, Mr. Chippy was unusually mild mannered. But he became greatly excited as soon as he heard Rusty’s story.
“It’s just like being caught in a trap!” he exclaimed. “And I can’t help feeling that you’ve played a trick on my son—probably to please Johnnie Green.... If you don’t set my boy free to-morrow morning at daybreak, I shall certainly make trouble for you.”
Mr. Chippy’s warning amazed Rusty Wren. But he couldn’t help laughing at the idea of anybody causing him any trouble.
“I’m so deep in trouble now,” he told Mr. Chippy, “there’s nothing you can do to make matters any worse for me. I’ve six growing children to bring up; and now I have your son to take care of; and my wife thinks everything is my fault, because I wanted to hire a boy to help me catch insects.
“So you can’t scare me by your threats. I only wish you would come to my house and take your son away with you—if you can.”
“I’ll come—and I’ll tear your house down!” Mr. Chippy cried fiercely. And he began screaming, “Chip, chip, chip, chip,” in a very shrill voice which was most annoying to hear.
Rusty Wren did not like to listen to him. So he flew back home and went to bed. He only wished that it were possible for Mr. Chippy to break into his house and rescue Chippy, Jr. But since the house was made of tin, Rusty knew that Mr. Chippy was helpless.
“I’ll never settle in a tin house again so long as I live!” he groaned.