“I—­I—­s-a-w!” he muttered; “I s-s-s-ing!”—­And expired, with his last breath gasping good grammar.

Instantly Thomas leaped the prostrate figure and strode to the Gate.  He was breathing hard, but looking about him boldly.  “Now I come through,” he boasted.

“O-o-o!” It was Gwendolyn’s cry.  “Officer, don’t let him! Don’t!”

In answer to her appeal, the Policeman seized Thomas by a lower ear and shoved him against a gate-post.  “You’ve committed murder!” he cried.  “And I arrest you!”

“Tongue-tie him!” shouted the little old gentleman, springing to jerk Thomas’s weapon out of his hand, and to snatch up the nicked and splintered weapon of the vanquished soldier.

Under the great blazing sign of the Zoo entrance the capture was accomplished.  And in a moment, from his feet to his very ears, Thomas was wrapped, arms tight against sides, in the scarlet toils of the tongues.

“So!” exclaimed the little old gentleman as he tied a last knot.  “Thomas’ll never bother my little girl again.”  And taking Gwendolyn by the hand, he led her away.

It was not until she had gone some distance that she turned to take a last look back.  And saw, there beside the wide Gate, a rubber-plant, its long leaves waving gently.  It was Thomas, bound securely, and abandoned.

Yet she did not pity him.  He had murdered the King’s English, and he deserved his punishment.  Furthermore, he looked so green, so cool, so ornamental!

CHAPTER XIII

So far, the Piper had seemed to be no one’s friend—­unless, perhaps, his own.  He had lagged along, surly or boisterous by turns, and careless of his manners; not even showing respect to the Man-Who-Makes-Faces and the Policeman!  But now Gwendolyn remarked a change in him.  For as he spoke to her, he took his pipe out of his mouth—­under the pretext of cleaning it.

“Say!” he began in a cautious undertone:  “I’ll give you some advice about Jane.”

Gwendolyn was looking about her at the Zoo.  Its roofs seemed countless.  They touched, having no streets between them anywhere, and reached as far as she could see.  They were all heights, all shapes, all varieties—­some being level, others coming to a point at one corner, a few ending in a tower.  One tower, on the outer-most edge of the Zoo, was square, and tapered.

“Jane?” she said indifferently.  “Oh, she’s only a top.”

“Only a top!” It was the little old gentleman.  “Why, that makes her all the more dangerous!”

“Because she’s spinning so fast”—­the Policeman balanced on one arm while he shook an emphatic finger—­“that she’ll stir up trouble!”

“Well, then, what shall I do?” asked Gwendolyn.  For, elated over seeing Thomas disposed of so completely—­and yet with so much mercy—­she was impatient at hearing that she still had reason to fear the nurse.