The whatnot was shaky, having only three short, spindle legs. Tootsie darted under and then darted out again. Bungle got in one free-handed slap at the little dog as she went under, while Popocatepetl caught her on the rebound as Tootsie came out.
The long, silky hair of the dog saved her from any injury. But she was so scared that she yelped as though the claws of both cats had torn her.
"Oh! my poor Tootsie!" wailed the doctor's wife. "They will kill her."
Dot stood, open mouthed. She could not quench the fury of the angered cats.
"That—that's my Alice-doll's next-to-best dress, Bungle!" she managed to say. "You're tearing it! you're tearing it!"
Just then the door opened. Uncle Rufus came tottering in with the feather duster. The old man's rheumatism still troubled him and he was not steady on his feet.
Tootsie saw a way of escape. She darted between Uncle Rufus' legs, still yelping as loudly as she could.
"Wha' fo' dat? wha' fo' dat?" ejaculated Uncle Rufus, and he fell back against the door which closed with a slam. If Tootsie had possessed a long tail it certainly would have been caught.
"Git erway f'om yere, you pesky cats!" shouted Uncle Rufus as Bungle and Popocatepetl charged the door on the trail of the terrified dog.
"Oh, dear me! Don't let them out," begged Dot, "till I can get my doll's clothes off."