Look back there, Ben, and see if there is room for a paper to get worked over the top of the drawer.

I felt quite a crack, but I don't believe it is possible for things to slip out; the place was never full enough to overflow in any way." Miss Celia spoke to Ben, who was kneeling down to pick up the scattered papers, among which were two marked dollar bills,--Thorny's bait for the thief.

Ben looked into the dusty recess, and then put in his hand, saying carelessly,-- "There's nothing but a bit of red stuff." "My old pen-wiper--Why, what's the matter ?" asked Miss Celia, as Ben dropped the handful of what looked like rubbish.
"Something warm and wiggly inside of it," answered Ben, stooping to examine the contents of the little scarlet bundle.

"Baby mice! Ain't they funny?
Look just like mites of young pigs.

We'll have to kill 'em if you've caught their mamma," he said, forgetting his own trials in boyish curiosity about his "find." Miss Celia stooped also, and gently poked the red cradle with her finger; for the tiny mice were nestling deeper into the fluff with small squeals of alarm.