But, alas! Clare had made another enemy--the lad whose attempt to change the bandboxes he had foiled. The fellow followed him, lurkingly, all the way home--on the watch for fit place to pounce upon him, and punish him for doing right when he wanted him to do wrong. He saw him turn into the opening that led to the well, and thought now he had him. But when he followed him in, he was not to be seen! He did not care to cross the well, not knowing what might meet him on the other side; but here was news to carry back! He did so; and his master saw in them the opportunity of indulging his dislike and revenge, and a means of invalidating whatever Clare might reveal to his discredit! Clare and the baby and Tommy and Abdiel had taken their supper with satisfaction, and were all asleep. It was to them as the middle of the night, though it was but past ten o’clock, when Abdiel all at once jumped right up on his four legs, cocked his ears, listened, leaped off the bed, ran to the door, and began to bark furiously. He was suddenly blinded by the glare of a bull’s-eye-lantern, and received a kick that knocked all the bark out of him, and threw him to the other side of the room. A huge policeman strode quietly in, sending the glare of his bull’s-eye all about the room like a vital, inquiring glance. It discovered, one after the other, every member of the family. So tired was Clare, however, that he did not wake until seized by a rough hand, and at one pull dragged standing on the floor. “Take care of the baby!” he cried, while yet not half awake. “_I’ll_ take care o’ the baby, never fear!--an’ o’ you too, you young rascal!” returned the policeman. He roused Tommy, who was wide awake, but pretending to be asleep, with a gentle kick. “Up ye get!” he said; and Tommy got up, rubbing his ferret eyes. “Come along!” said the policeman. “Where to?” asked Clare. “You’ll see when you get there.” “But I can’t leave baby!” “Baby must come along too,” answered the policeman, more gently, for he had children of his own. “But she has no clothes to go in!” objected Clare. “She must go without, then.” “But she’ll take cold!” “She don’t run naked in the house, do she?” “No; she can’t run yet. I keep her in a blanket. But the blanket ain’t mine; I can’t take it with me.” “You’re mighty scrup’lous!” returned the policeman. “You don’t mind takin’ a ’ole ’ouse an’ garding, but you wouldn’ think o’ takin’ a blanket!--Oh, no! Honest boy _you_ are!” He turned sharp round, and caught Tommy taking a vigorous sight at him. Tommy, courageous as a lion behind anybody’s back, dropped on the rug sitting. “We’ve done the house no harm,” said Clare, “and I will _not_ take the blanket. It would be stealing!” “Then I will take it, and be accountable for it,” rejoined the man. “I hope that will satisfy you!” “Certainly,” answered Clare. “You are a policeman, and that makes it all right.” “Rouse up then, and come along. I want to get home.”