“I will.”
Ted thrust in the stick. Once more there was a growl, followed by a number of tiny barks, like those of a dog.
“That isn’t Skyrocket,” decided Ted, when his pet did not come out after being called again and again.
“What is it then?” asked Tom.
“I don’t know,” admitted his chum. “We’d better go and tell my mother. Come on, Trouble!”
“Trouble want wed ball!” cried the little fellow.
“I know you do,” answered his brother. “But it’s down in the hole, and something always growls at us. I don’t want to get bit, and Tom doesn’t either. I guess we’ll have to wait till Uncle Ben comes back. He’ll get the ball for you, Trouble.”
“All wite!” was the answer.
Then Ted and Tom ran to where Mrs. Martin was sitting in the shade and the boys cried:
“Trouble’s red ball is in the growlery hole, and we can’t get it out!”