the back door, but no sign of the thief appeared.

"In the lane!" shouted Bab.

"Down by the spring!" panted Betty; and off they went again, one to
scramble up a pile of stones and look over the wall into the avenue, the
other to scamper to the spot they had just left. Still, nothing appeared
but the dandelions' innocent faces looking up at Bab, and a brown bird
scared from his bath in the spring by Betty's hasty approach.

Back they rushed, but only to meet a new scare, which made them both cry
"Ow!" and fly into the porch for refuge.

A strange dog was sitting calmly among the ruins of the feast, licking
his lips after basely eating up the last poor bits of bun, when he had
bolted the cake, basket, and all, apparently.

"Oh, the horrid thing!" cried Bab, longing to give battle, but afraid,
for the dog was a peculiar as well as a dishonest animal.

"He looks like our China poodle, doesn't he?" whispered Betty, making
herself as small as possible behind her more valiant sister.

He certainly did; for, though much larger and dirtier than the
well-washed China dog, this live one had the same tassel at the end of
his tail, ruffles of hair round his ankles, and a body shaven behind and
curly before. His eyes, however, were yellow, instead of glassy black,
like the other's; his red nose worked as he cocked it up, as if smelling
for more cakes, in the most impudent manner; and never, during the three
years he had stood on the parlor mantel-piece, had the China poodle done