"It could be if it ran away like our gas stove did," said Nat.
"Ha! Ha!" laughed Policeman Paddock. "Who ever heard of a gas stove running away?"
"Ours did," said Weezie, but the policeman did not hear her, or, if he did, he paid no attention, for he was playing with Thump, letting the dog catch hold of the leather thong on the club.
"I guess it was a false alarm," went on the officer as he started back toward the fence. "I was walking along," he explained, "and I looked through, between the houses, and saw something moving in the tall weeds. Then I heard a dog barking and I thought something had happened. But it hadn't."
"Yes, something happened," said Grandma Harden. "A tramp got in our house, while I was baking a cake, and stole my rocking chair and my glasses!"
"Stole a rocking chair!" cried the officer. "That's a queer thing for a tramp to take! And glasses, too—that's stranger still!"
"My glasses were in the chair cushions," explained Grandma. "And what I am going to do without them I don't know! I can't see to read, sew or bake. You'll have to finish chocolate-frosting that cake, Helen," she told Nat's mother.
"Yes, I'll do that," young Mrs. Harden promised. "But it is very strange about that chair. We were just sending for you, Mr. Paddock, to ask if you had seen any tramps about, when you came running in."
"No, I haven't seen any tramps," said the policeman, "but I'll be on the lookout for any of the ragged chaps who have your chair and glasses," he told Grandma. "I'll be watching for them!"
"I hope you catch them," exclaimed the old Mrs. Marden.