“I just heard her say so, so now, Tessie Kenway,” Dot was saying. “And I know if it’s up there, it’s never had a thing to eat since we came here to live.” “I don’t see how that could be,” said Tess, wonderingly. “It’s just _so_,” repeated the positive Dot. “But why doesn’t it make a noise?” “We-ell,” said the smaller girl, puzzled, too, “maybe we don’t hear it ’cause it’s too far up—there at the top of the house.” “I know,” said Tess, thoughtfully. “They eat tin cans, and rubber boots, and any old thing. But I always thought that was because they couldn’t find any other food. Like those castaway sailors Ruth read to us about, who chewed their sealskin boots. Maybe such things stop the gnawing feeling you have in your stomach when you’re hungry.” “I am going to pull some grass and take it up there,” announced the stubborn Dot. “I am sure it would be glad of some grass.” “Maybe Ruth wouldn’t like us to,” objected Tess. “But it isn’t Ruthie’s!” cried Dot. “It must have belonged to Uncle Peter.” “Why! that’s so,” agreed Tess. For once she was over-urged by Dot. Both girls pulled great sheafs of grass. They held it before them in the skirts of their pinafores, and started up the back stairs. Mrs. McCall chanced to be in the pantry and did not see them. They would have reached the garret without Ruth or Agnes being the wiser had not Dot, laboring upward, dropped a wisp of grass in the second hall. “What’s all this?” demanded Agnes, coming upon the scattered grass. “What’s what?” asked Ruth, behind her. “And on the stairs!” exclaimed Agnes again. “Why, it’s grass, Ruth.” “Grass growing on the stairs?” demanded her older sister, wonderingly, and running to see. “Of course not _growing_,” declared Agnes. “But who dropped it? Somebody has gone up——” She started up the second flight, and Ruth after her. The trespassers were already on the garret flight. There was a tight door at the top of those stairs so no view could be obtained of the garret. “Well, I declare!” exclaimed Agnes. “What are you doing up here?” “And with grass,” said Ruth. “We’re all going to explore up there together some day soon. But you needn’t make your beds up there,” and she laughed. “Not going to make beds,” announced Tess, rather grumpily. “For pity’s sake, what _are_ you going to do?” asked Agnes. “We’re going to feed the goat,” said Dot, gravely. “Going to feed _what_?” shrieked Agnes. “The goat,” repeated Dot. “She says there’s one up here,” Tess exclaimed, sullenly. “A goat in the garret!” gasped Ruth. “How ridiculous. What put such an idea into your heads?” “Aggie said so herself,” said Dot, her lip quivering. “I heard her tell you so last night after we were all abed.” “A—goat—in—the—gar—ret!” murmured Agnes, in wonder. Ruth saw the meaning of it instantly. She pulled Aggie by the sleeve.