"Don't be a goose, Ann," said Rudolf stoutly, though he was really
beginning to feel worried himself. "You know they are only dreams if
they _are_ bad. What can a dream do, anyway? They're not real."

"Oh, they're real enough," sighed little Ann. "Sometimes the things in
dreams are real-er than real things. I'm 'fraid enough of real cows,
but _they_ can't walk up-stairs like the dream cows can--and, oh, I
remember the dream I dreamed about the Dentist-man, after I had my
tooth pulled, the one father gave me the dollar for--and--"

"Bother!" said Rudolf. "I've had lots worse dreams than cows and
dentists. P'licemen and Indian chiefs, and--oh, heaps of things, and I
didn't really mind 'em, either, but then I'm braver than--"

"Sh!" interrupted Ann, stopping and catching at Rudolf's arm. "I hear
something--something queer. Listen!"

[Illustration: "I hear something--something queer."]

Rudolf listened. "I don't hear anything," he said at last. "What was
it like?"

"Oh, such a creepy, crawly sound, and--Oh, Ruddy--there is a face--see
it? A horrid little face peeping out at us from behind that tree!"

Rudolf saw the face too, a winking, blinking, leering, little face
much like the one that had grinned at Ann from the post of the big bed
not so very long ago.