Ann sat up and clung to Rudolf,
while the Knight-mare who was standing close beside her, laid a
protecting hand upon her shoulder. When she saw what had been holding
her down, she gave a little shriek. It was a small spotted cow in a
red flannel petticoat. She wore stout button boots on her hind feet,
and she now reared herself upon these to flourish two angry hoofs
over the sleek head of a little man in a white linen coat who held a
tiny mirror in one hand and a pair of pincers in the other. Ann took a
great dislike to this little man at once, and felt more afraid of him
than of the Cow or of the handsome Indian Chief in full
war-paint--feather head-dress and all--who was brandishing his
tomahawk, sometimes in the face of the Little Dentist, again under the
turned-up nose of a large fat Policeman who stood with folded arms,
the only calm member of that much-excited group.
The Knight-mare stepped forward and put himself between the children
and the Bad Dreams. "Look here, you fellows," he said quietly, "you
may as well stop this nonsense first as last. You haven't got any
business here, and well you know it. If the Boss finds you've been
disposing of any prisoners without his permission--well--_you_ know
what'll happen!"
That the Bad Dreams did know was to be seen by their foolish scared
expressions. The Indian Chief, with a disappointed grunt, replaced his
tomahawk in his belt, and seated himself cross-legged on the grass,
drawing his blanket closely about him.
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