re the first to be awakened by the
screams of the frightened lady. For that Mrs. Blake was frightened anyone
could tell who heard her cry.

"Come and take the fuzzy burglar! Take the fuzzy burglar out of my room!"
she exclaimed again and again.

By this time Teddy had jumped out of his bed and had run to his window.
At the same time Janet, in the next room, had jumped out of her bed and
had run to her window. Both children looked across the yard to the home
of Mrs. Blake. They could see her, in the moonlight, standing at her
window.

"What's the matter, Curlytops?" called their mother, across the hall. She
had been awakened, not so much by the cries of Mrs. Blake as by the
movements of Ted and Janet. "What's the matter?" asked Mrs. Martin.

"There's a funny burglar over in Mrs. Blake's house, and she wants
someone to come and get it," answered Janet.

"No, she didn't say _funny_ burglar--she said _fuzzy_!" declared Ted.

"Well, anyhow, it's a _burglar_," declared Janet.

And from the other house again came the appeal:

"Patrick! Mary Ann! Mr. Martin! Somebody! Come and get the fuzzy
burglar!"

By this time Mr. Martin, who had gotten up, had been told by his wife
that something was wrong in Mrs. Blake's house. He put on some clothes
and hurried downstairs, carrying a flashlight in one hand and his
revolver in the other.

"Oh!" exclaimed Janet, who, with Teddy, watched her father go, "Daddy's
going to shoot the funny burglar."

"_Fuzzy_ burglar!" corrected Ted.

But Janet had covered her ears with her hands, so she would not hear her
father shoot his revolver--in case he found anything to shoot at--so the
little girl did not hear what her brother said.

Mr. Martin ran across the lawn to the front porch of Mrs. Blake's house.
By this time several other neighbors had been awakened be the lady's
screams, and some of the men came out, partly dressed, to see what was
going on.

"Come in, Mr. Martin," said Patrick, as he opened the door for the father
of the Curlytops. Patrick was Mrs. Blake's gardener.

"What is it, Patrick?" asked Mr. Martin, holding his revolver in one hand
and the flashlight in the other. "Where is the burglar?"

"I didn't see anything, Mr. Martin," answered the gardener. "I heard Mrs.
Blake scream, and I got up, and so did Mary Ann, the cook, but we can't
find anything!"

"But there _is_ a burglar here!" said Mrs. Blake from the head of the
stairs, where she now stood. "I was awakened