“Well,” said he, slowly getting upon his feet and with another curious glance around, “I can’t say that I consider it a desirable place of residence. Certainly it’s no place for our precious Toodlums,” and he bent over the sleeping babe and tenderly kissed its forehead. Then, straightening up, he said in as determined a tone as his high voice would permit: “We must find a way to get out of here!”
“Can’t you get out the same way you got in?” asked Mildred.
He looked at her in perplexed astonishment.
“How did I get in?” he inquired.
“Don’t you know?”
“I’ve no idea. I was sitting in the window of the blue room, resting, when there was a bang, whirligig, fireworks—and here I am, your uninvited guest.”
“The blue room!” cried Mildred.
“Yes. Did you happen to notice my arrival? I don’t mean its lack of dignity, but the direction I came from?”
“You came from somewhere behind that bed. I saw you strike the mattress and—and bound up again.”
“To be sure. I remember bounding up again. I—I didn’t care to stop, you see. I was anxious to—to—see if baby Jane was all right.”