“I want you to come and help me turn my drug store around with its face to the wall. All the later editions of Denson, Pilgreen and Beckman have taken possession of my office--and as the Countess says: 'Them Beckman kids is holy terrors--an' it's savin' the rod an' spoilin' the kid that makes 'em so!'” Chip laughed outright. “The Denson kids are a heap worse, if she only knew it,” he said, and followed her willingly. The Little Doctor's “office” was a homey little room, with a couch, a well-worn Morris rocker, two willow chairs and a small table for the not imposing furnishing, dignified by a formidable stack of medical books in one corner, and the “drug store,” which was simply a roomy bookcase filled with jars, bottles, boxes and packages, all labeled in a neat vertical hand. The room fairly swarmed with children, who seemed, for the most part, to be enjoying themselves very much. Charlotte May Pilgreen and Sary Denson were hunched amicably over one of the books, shuddering beatifically over a pictured skeleton. A swarm surrounded the drug store, the glass door of which stood open. The Little Doctor flew across to the group, horror white. “Sybilly got the key an' unlocked it, an' she give us this candy, too!” tattled a Pilgreen with very red hair and a very snub nose. “I didn't, either! It was Jos'phine!” “Aw, you big story-teller! I never tetched it!” The Little Doctor clutched the nearest arm till the owner of it squealed. “How many of you have eaten some of these? Tell the truth, now.” They quailed before her sternness--quailed and confessed. All told, seven had swallowed the sweet pellets, in numbers ranging from two to a dozen more. “Is it poison?” Chip whispered the question in the ear of the perturbed Little Doctor. “No--but it will make them exceedingly uncomfortable for a time--I'm going to pump them out.” “Good shot! Serves 'em right, the little--” “All of you who have eaten this--er--candy, must come with me. The rest of you may stay here and play, but you must NOT touch this case.” “Yuh going t' give 'em a lickin'?” Sary Denson wetted a finger copiously before turning a leaf upon the beautiful skeleton. “Never mind what I'm going to do to them--you had better keep out of mischief yourself, however. Mr. Bennett, I wish you would get some fellow you can trust--some one who won't talk about this afterward--turn this case around so that it will be safe, and then come to the back bedroom--the one off the kitchen. And tell Louise I want her, will you, please?” “I'll get old Weary. Yes, I'll send the Countess--but don't you think she's a mighty poor hand to keep a secret?” “I can't help it--I need her. Hurry, please.”