"Why, Ruth!" exclaimed Dorothy, "one of the dolls has been eating cake."
"And where in the world is all that chicken?" wondered Ruth. "It is over half gone. Tommy wasn't here or I'd think he was the thief. Who do you suppose could have—-"
Ruth paused suddenly to watch Tommy. He was acting strangely. He sniffed at the table, hopped down and ran straight to the doll's bed, like the keen-nosed detective that he was.
Out popped Silver Ears. She darted across the room and squeezed through the tiniest hole just as Tom's sharp claws reached out to grab her. She slipped safely through to the other side and Tom went angrily back to the empty bed, switching his long tail. He had to be content with a piece of cold chicken for his dinner that day.
Silver Ears ran sobbing to Mammy.
"My dear child," said Mother Graymouse, "you are all of a quiver. And your poor little back is bleeding!"
She hurried to find some lint and cobwebs in the dark, unswept corners of the attic.
"Do not be frightened, Silvy. Mammy will fix you up as good as new. Run down to Grand-daddy, Limpy-toes, and fetch a pinch of cure-all salve. By to-morrow, your scratch will be all well, Silvy dear."
"Oh, such a fright!" gasped Silver Ears. "I don't wish to be Ruth
Giant's pet any more. She can have her dear Tommy if she wants him."
"Did you get anything good to eat?" asked Buster.