"I am going to look," quoth Mrs. Polly then, in a tone of decision,
and straightway she rose and got a candle.

Ann's heart beat terribly. "O, I wouldn't go up there to-night," said
she.

"Yes; I am going. I'm going to satisfy Nabby about the rats in the
grain-chest, if I can."

She was out the door, at the foot of the stairs, Nabby behind her,
dishcloth and plate in hand, peering fearfully over her shoulder. Ann
was in despair. Only one chance of averting the discovery suggested
itself to her. _She tipped over the churn._ "O, oh!" she screamed.
Back rushed Mrs. Polly and Nabby, and that ended the rat-hunt for
that night. The waste of all that beautiful cream was all Mrs. Polly
could think of--prudent housewife that she was.

So in the night, when the moon was up, and the others were sound
asleep, Ann assisted her thief safely out of the grain-chest and out
of the house. "But, first," said Ann Wales, pausing bravely, with her
hand on the grain-chest lid, speaking in a solemn whisper, "before I
let you out, you must make me a promise."

"What?" came back feebly.

"That you will never, never, steal a horse again. If you don't
promise, I will give you up, now."

"I promise I won't," said the man, readily.