She had gotten rid of Thomas. But here was Miss Royle!
There was no time for greetings. Again were sounding those furious growls—"Rar! Rar! Rar!"
Jane swung round in a half-circle to warn the governess. "It's that Bear!" she hummed. "Can't you drive him away?"
Miss Royle began to uncoil.
The Policeman was tick-tocking up and down. "The Den's damaged!" he lamented.
"Now, who's goin' to pay?" demanded the Piper.
"I'm afraid the Bear's hurt," declared the Man-Who-Makes-Faces.
In her eagerness to trip Jane, Gwendolyn had utterly forgotten the Bear's Den. Now she saw it—a large cage, light in color, its bars woven closely together. And she saw too—with horror—that what the Policeman said was true: In falling, the Big Rock had broken the cover of the Den. This cover was flopping up and down on its hinges.
"Oh, he's loose!" she gasped.
"Rar! Rar! Rar-r-r!"