After plunging through the air and landing on all fours
with his grasping hands closing on nothingness, the man had
remained thus, as if dazed, for a second or so. Then he had felt
the ground all about him. Then, bewildered, he had scrambled to
his feet. Now he was standing, moveless, his lips working.
Yes, he seemed to be tired of the lovely game;--and just when
Laddie was beginning to enter into the full spirit of it. Once in
a while, the Mistress or the Master stopped playing, during the
romps with the flannel doll. And Laddie had long since hit on a
trick for reviving their interest. He employed this ruse now.
As the man stood, puzzled and scared, something brushed very
lightly,-even coquettishly,--against his knuckles. He started in
nervous fright. An instant later, the same thing brushed his
knuckles again, this time more insistently. The man, in a spurt
of fear-driven rage, grabbed at the invisible object. His fingers
slipped along the smooth sides of the bewitched bag that Lad was
shoving invitingly at him.
Brief as was the contact, it was long enough for the thief's
sensitive finger tips to recognize what they touched.
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