“Hit ’em wif mah rollin’ pin—dat’s whut I’d do!” cried Dinah, shaking the rolling pin, with which at that moment she was flattening out the dough for a batch of biscuits.
“I guess that would fix ’em!” laughed Bert. “But I’ll lock up everything so the burglars can’t get in.”
That evening when Flossie and Freddie had, as usual, gone to bed early and while Bert and Nan were studying their lessons, a knock sounded on the side door.
“My goodness! what’s that?” cried Mrs. Pry, almost jumping out of the chair in which she was sitting mending stockings. Dinah was out in the kitchen, “setting” the pancakes for the next morning.
“Some one’s at de side do’,” said the colored cook. “I’ll go see who ’tis.”
“What’s that?” cried deaf Mrs. Pry. “Did you say you fell on the floor, Dinah?”
“No’m, Miz Pry. I said I’d go to de do’!”
“I wonder who it is and why they didn’t ring the front door bell?” asked Nan of Bert in a low voice. “Do you suppose it could be a tramp?”
“Supposing it is?” asked Bert. “I’m not afraid. Tramps won’t hurt anybody.”
“No. But he’d be awfully cold and want to come in,” returned Nan.