All this noise attracted the attention of Mrs. Stevenson, who hastened to the cellar door.
“Why, Hulda! What is the matter? Are you hurt?”
“No, ma’am, but there is a rat in the cellar and I am afraid he will get me.”
“You silly girl to make such a fuss over a rat! It won’t hurt you. Don’t you know that they are more afraid of you than you are of them?”
“Maybe, but I hate them and am afraid they will get on me. Do help me, Mrs. Stevenson! I am all mixed up in my dress and can’t get up.”
She had stepped on the front breadth and instead of stepping off it backward, she was still walking up the front, tearing it as she struggled.
While Mrs. Stevenson was helping her, something deplorable happened. Stubby sneezed. He absolutely could not help it.
“What was that? Who is there?” asked Mrs. Stevenson in a frightened voice. She thought right away that it was no rat Hulda had heard, but a burglar who had hidden himself in the cellar to steal the wedding presents when the family had left the house to go to the church. She grabbed Hulda by the shoulder and they both flew up the stairs and slammed the door.
“Now we are in for it!” said Stubby.
“Yes, they will tell the men and in a jiffy they will be down here with sticks, canes, stove-pokers and brooms,” said Button. “We must get out of here as quickly as we can, and stay out until they are gone.”