pretty clear idea of what had happened to him. That poor little old Mr. Mouse had had blood.

"But, Daddy—"

It was hopeless. "Dorrie! Martha!" Daddy's hunting instinct was aroused. "Have we got a mouse trap? Any cheese? There is a hole in that closet, a little old mouse hole and I'm going to—"

Well, perhaps this would be better than if he hadn't found anything.

Tommy followed Daddy about as he finally located a mouse trap. No cheese? He cut a little piece of meat for bait. Of course Tommy knew no trap would catch the Ugly Thing.

"What in the world happened to my lighter?" Daddy wanted to know. Tommy didn't answer that. But at least everybody, even Aunt Martha, had forgotten about shutting Tommy's family up in the closet. For now that was enough.

But later, after supper, after bath, after the shooting picture on the TV, it was time for bed.

"Daddy?"

"Get on to bed now, son. Past bedtime. Hop to it."

"Daddy, I want to sleep with you and Momma tonight."

Well, it was a mighty dark night. The afternoon rain had built up into a real storm. Mr. Bear was terrified. Kokey was scared and even tough Old Rabbit didn't want to sleep in Tommy's room with the Ugly Thing in the hole so hungry and waiting to rip its way out of the hole when it got dark enough—and only the street light outside the room to keep away the dark because they would never let Tommy keep his light on at night.

"My family and me don't want to sleep in my room tonight."

"Now, Tommy, just because it's a little stormy—Daddy's big boy isn't afraid of a little wind and rain?"

"I'm not afraid, Daddy. It's my family. You know how families are. You always say about Momma—"

"Never mind that now. To bed. Your own bed."

"But Daddy, there's the Ugly Thing in the hole! And it's hungry!"

"The mouse?"

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