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“Here’s a piece of clothes-line!”

The Policeman made the find—catching sight of the line where it dangled from the edge of a roof. The others hastened to join him. And each seized the rope in both hands, the Piper staying at one end of it, the little old gentleman at the opposite, while Gwendolyn and the Policeman posted themselves at proper distances between. Then forward in a row swept all, carrying the rope with them. It was a curious one of its kind—as black as if it had been tarred, thick at the middle, but noticeably thin at one end.

Jane saw their design. “Ba-a-a!” she mocked. “I’m not afraid of you! I’m goin’ to turn the Big Rock. Then you’ll see!” And she made straight toward the square tower in the distance.

“Oh!” It was the little old gentleman, beard blown sidewise by the wind. “We musn’t let her!”

The Piper, in his excitement, jounced the pig so hard that it squealed. “We ought to be able,” he panted, “to manage a top.”

“Jane!” bellowed the Policeman, galloping hard. “You must not injure that shaft!”

Then Gwendolyn realized that the square tower toward which the nurse was spinning was the Big Rock. And she recognized it as a certain great pillar of pink granite, up and down the sides of which, deep cut by chisels, were written strange words.

It rose just ahead. Answering the Officer with a shrill, scoffing laugh, Jane bore down upon it. Aided by the wind, she made top speed.

There was not a moment to lose. Her pursuers fairly tore after her. And the Piper, who made the fastest progress, gained—until he was at her very heels. Then with a final leap, he passed her, and circled, dragging the rope.

It made a loop about the buttonless shoes—a loop that tightened as the little old gentleman came short, as the Piper halted. Each gave a pull—

With disastrous result! For as the line came taut, up Jane went!—caught bodily from the ground. And still spinning, whizzed forward in that high wind and struck the granite squarely.

She fell to the ground, toppling sidewise, and bulking large.

But the shaft! It began to move—slowly at first—to tip forward, farther and farther. When, gaining velocity, with a great grinding noise, down from off the massive cube upon which it stood it came crashing!

Instantly a chorus of cries arose: “Oh, she’s bumped over the obelisk! She’s bumped over the obelisk!”

With the cries, and sounding from beneath the tapered end of the Big Rock, mingled ferocious growls—”Rar! Rar! Rar! Rar!“

And in that same moment, the four who were holding the rope felt it begin to writhe and twist in their grasp!—like a live thing. And its black length took on a scaly look, glittering in that pink glow as if it were covered with small ebon paillettes. It grew cold and clammy. At its thicker end Gwendolyn saw that the Piper was supporting a head—a head with small, fiery eyes and a tongue flame-like in its color and swift darting. Next, “Hiss-s-s-s-s!” And with one hideous contortion, the huge black body wrung itself free and coiled.

Once Gwendolyn had boasted that she was not afraid of snakes. And now she did not flee, though the black coils were piled at her very feet. For she recognized the serpent. There was no mistaking that thin face and those small eyes. Moreover, a pocket-handkerchief was bound round the reptilian jaws and tied at the top of the head in a bow-knot.

She had gotten rid of Thomas. But here was Miss Royle!

There was no time for greetings. Again were sounding those furious growls—”Rar! Rar! Rar!“

Jane swung round in a half-circle to warn the governess. “It’s that Bear!” she hummed. “Can’t you drive him away?”

Miss Royle began to uncoil.

The Policeman was tick-tocking up and down. “The Den’s damaged!” he lamented.

“Now, who’s goin’ to pay?” demanded the Piper.

“I’m afraid the Bear’s hurt,” declared the Man-Who-Makes-Faces.

In her eagerness to trip Jane, Gwendolyn had utterly forgotten the Bear’s Den. Now she saw it—a large cage, light in color, its bars woven closely together. And she saw too—with horror—that what the Policeman said was true: In falling, the Big Rock had broken the cover of the Den. This cover was flopping up and down on its hinges.