"I'm sure it's indigestible," Highboy complained, "and it wasn't sweet. I don't like it."
"Hurry!" Hortense cried, for at last they were at the bottom where they could crawl through the door into the cellar.
Grater was so close that his hand was upon Hortense's foot. She jerked herself free and in a flash was up the cellar stairs and in the kitchen.
Malay Kris turned indignantly to Hortense.
"Why didn't you let me at him?" he demanded.
There was time for no further words. Grater was upon them, and Malay Kris, with a glad cry, hurled himself at his foe. It was a grand fight, but short. Malay Kris bore Grater to the floor, locked fast in a deadly embrace.
"Let me up!" said Grater in a weak, hoarse voice. "You're hurting me."
But Malay Kris, try as he might, could not do so. He had pinned his foe to the floor so securely that he, himself, was stuck fast. Andy, Highboy, and Hortense, all lent a hand but could not free him.
"Never mind," said Malay Kris, "I like the feel of this fellow and don't mind staying all night."
Whatever would Grandfather say, Hortense wondered.