while sundry legs protruded from below. Peter stalked over, and laying a firm grasp on the nearest ankle, plucked out Master Wallace from behind the arras. He set the boy on his feet and shook him.
"What have ye done with that baby?"
Wallace dug his fists into his eyes and commenced to whimper. Peter tried another cast, and fetched out Master Bobby.
"Hello, Pete!" said Bobby, with cheerful impudence.
"You cough up that baby," said Peter.
"He's in the wash-boiler." Bobby waved his hand airily toward the opposite end of the room.
Peter, still grasping Bobby's collar with a touch unpleasantly firm, strode across and raised the lid. The baby was sleeping as peacefully as in his own perambulator.
"We were just going to return him when you came." Bobby's voice contained an increasing note of anxiety. "We fed him and
