Sandy shook his head again, as he
glanced at Ann in her nighty, her ruffled curls tumbling over her
flushed face--Ann without patchwork, thimble, or pleased expression!
"Afraid you won't do, miss," said he, looking quite sorry for her.
"Let's see what's next. Number three"--he read--"Very small boy: clean
blue sailor suit--white socks--looks sorry for--"
All turned to look at Peter, but Peter was not looking sorry for
anything--Peter was not there! Ann gave a hasty look all round the
glade, then burst into tears.
"Oh, Rudolf," she cried, "what shall we do? He's gone--he's slipped
away to find those Bad Dreams all by himself--you know how Peter is,
when he says he's going to do anything, he _will_ do it. Oh, oh, I
_ought_ to have watched him!"
"Don't cry," said Rudolf hastily. "It's just as much my fault. You
stay here and I'll go fetch him back. I have my sword, you know."
"No, no," sobbed Ann. "Don't leave me. It was my fault--I promised
mother I would always look after Peter. We'll go together. The Sandman
will tell us where the Bad Dreams live, won't you?" she added, turning
to Sandy.
"There, there, of course I will," said the little man kindly. "I'd go
along with you, if there wasn't such a press of business just now, but
you can see for yourselves what a mess things would be in if I should
leave.
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