"No, I should think not," laughed Polly. And Ben saying the same thing they immediately launched into an animated recital of all the plans for this particular tree, and the comparison with all the other trees of the past Christmases, till they forgot Jocko and everything else in the charms of this belated holiday.
"What's that funny noise?" at last asked Ben in a lull, when all three had paused to rest.
"What? I don't hear anything," said Jasper, pricking up his ears.
"Nor I," said Polly. "Oh, yes, I do." She sprang off from her hassock and ran around to the table.
"Why, Jocko, where—" she cried.
Ben got off from his hassock. "Well, that explains the noise fast enough," he said grimly. "Why, where is the whip?" going over to the table.
"Dear me, I don't know," said Polly. "I haven't touched it," and she began to fly all about the room. "Jocko, Jocko dear," she cried coaxingly.
"The little scamp has taken the whip," said Ben, too vexed to smile. "How you can laugh, Jasper, I don't see. Now then, we must find that beast. My goodness me!" He dashed off. As Ben seldom took any but deliberate steps, Jasper stopped laughing to see him go. The next instant, "Come, Polly!" called Ben.
"Where?" She was over by one of the long windows, shaking the curtain, fully expecting to see the runaway hiding within its folds.
"In the bath-room," shouted Ben. So down the little passageway, tiled and wainscoted, clattered Polly on hasty feet, to find Ben holding Jocko by the collar, and the bath-tub running over with water, both faucets being turned on, and several articles, the broken whip among the rest, floating on the top.