“Keep right on,” said Sandy, “and don’t be afraid.  Remember—­they’re a queer lot, those fellows, but they can’t hurt you if you are careful.  Don’t answer ’em back and don’t ask ’em too many questions.  One thing in particular—­if they offer you anything to eat, don’t taste a mouthful of it.  If you do it’ll be the worse for you!”

Rudolf and Ann thought of Peter and his passion for “refreshments”, and they started hastily forward.

“Just one thing more,” called Sandy after them.  “About that consignment of your aunt’s, you know!  I’ll hold that over till you get back, and we’ll see what can be done.  Maybe we can fit you in yet, somehow.  Now good-by, and good luck to you!”

“Good-by, and thank you!” Rudolf and Ann called back to him, and then they plunged into the path.  The wall of bushes sprang back again behind them, and cut them off from the shelter of the Good Dreams’ glade.  As the path was very narrow, Rudolf walked first, sword drawn, and Ann trotted behind him, trying not to think of what queer things might be waiting behind the trees to jump out at them, trying only to think of her naughty Peter, and how glad she would be to see him again.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XII

ENTER THE KNIGHT-MARE

At first it was easy enough for the children to follow the narrow winding path which the Sandman had pointed out, but soon they came to a part of the wood where the underbrush grew thicker and their path lost itself in a network of other little paths spread out as if on purpose to confuse them.  Rudolf and Ann hurried along as fast as they could go, but it was hard work to make their way through the tangled undergrowth where the twisted roots set traps for their feet—­and caught them, too, sometimes—­while overhead the tall trees met and mingled their branches.  From these hung down great masses of trailing vines and spreading creepers like long, lean, hairy arms stretched out to bar their way.  Rudolf had to stop now and then to hack at these arms with his sword before he and Ann could pass through.  Worst of all—­the thick growth of trees made the wood so dark that they could not see more than a few feet ahead of them.

“Oh, Ruddy, I’m sure we’re not on the right path any more,” said Ann at last.  “Peter is so little—­he never, never could have pushed his way through here!”

“N-no,” admitted Rudolf.  “Perhaps he couldn’t, but maybe he stuck to the right path, Ann, and if he did he’s there by this time.”

“But I don’t want him to get there!” poor Ann cried.  “That would be much worse for him than being lost.  If he’s just around the wood somewhere we can find him and bring him back and then coax Sandy to send us all home by the toboggan-slide to Aunt Jane, but if he’s found the Bad Dreams or they’ve found him—­Oh, Ruddy, how do we know what awful things they may be doing to him!”