"Oh, no you don't!" one of them grated viciously. He lunged at the ladder and shoved it with all his might. As it shot away from his hand he let out a hysterical laugh. "There!" he yelled. "Now it's your turn to look silly!" The ladder streaked away toward the open end of the section like a shrieking, avenging thing. Marc and Mr. Culpepper twined themselves to it and each other in a seizure of iron-bound desperation. "Heh, heh, heh!" the cop cackled wildly, watching their terror. "That'll teach 'em to make light of the law!" He turned his attention to Toffee. "Come down off there, you little witch," he demanded. "Come and get me, lardhead," Toffee hissed. "I'm holding out for squatter's rights." [Illustration: Toffee smiled enticingly from her perch on top of the bookcase as the cop gestured wildly....] The cop accepted her invitation. Or at least he tried. Clutching the edge of a high shelf he attempted to swing himself upward. From there on, the natural laws of gravity took matters into their own hands. The entire bookcase teetered drunkenly for a moment, swayed forward, paused, then clattered downward. Toffee's pursuer went down under a flood of literature, while Toffee sailed lightly outward and landed with ease in the outstretched arms of the other policeman. All three of the participants in this rather singular incident were starkly surprised at its outcome. At the same moment a howling duet of horror announced the arrival of Marc and Mr. Culpepper at their dreaded destination. There was a thud and a crash as the ladder hit the end of its track and hurled its helpless cargo into the wall. A clatter, a moan and a groan marked the end of the operation. "Now look what you've done!" Toffee howled as the cop lowered her to the floor. "You've probably killed them!" A howl of outrage issued from the mountain of books at her side. A few slid from the top of the pile and the head of the deluged policeman jutted into view, eyes ablaze. "You haven't increased my insurance value either, sister," he said bitterly. He burrowed his way to freedom and gained his feet, staring evilly at the diminutive cause of his downfall. "I--hate--you," he said with heavy emphasis. * * * * * By the time Toffee and the cops arrived at the end of the section, Marc and Mr. Culpepper were just beginning to stir. Apparently their nervous systems had suffered the bulk of the damage, for they were not noticeably marked. The cops took them into hand. "Fun's over boys!" the more unruffled of them said. "You won't go sky-larking again for a long, long time." In the meantime, Toffee was staring back into the aisle, searching out the shelf on which she had last seen the infant Harpers. She made a little cry of surprise. The shelf was empty.