The girls waited breathlessly.
"Pull him out, Tavia! What's the use standing there with a rake in your hand," said Dorothy.
"I want to make sure he does not revive," she replied, gingerly poking the rake handle a little further under the hidden corner.
"Oh, here," exclaimed Dorothy impatiently. "Let me take that implement and you hold this door. We ought to get the animal out in time for lunch."
They shifted positions. Dorothy jabbed the rake recklessly into the corner. Tavia moaned, and Cologne groaned.
Drag—drag—It was coming out.
"Mercy!" exclaimed Tavia.
"Goodness me!" gasped Cologne.
But Dorothy, who was the only one near the thing, simply dropped the rake and stood aghast—too dumbfounded to utter a syllable!
"What is it?" begged Cologne.