The escape of the animal from the cobbler’s cage so surprised Joe and Dick that at first they did not understand what Teddy had shouted. Even Mr. Crispen was startled.  
As for Mrs. Traddle, who had followed the shoemaker out to the garden after the telephone talk, she gave a loud cry when the trap was broken by the escaping captive.
 
Then Mrs. Traddle rushed into the house, slammed shut and locked the door and cried:
 
“Send for the police! Send for the police!”
 
But when another shout of Teddy had echoed in the ears of his chums, and they had time to calm down, Joe asked:
 
“What did you say, Teddy?”
 
“I said that was no deer.”
 
“What was it?” asked Dick.
 
147 “A goat!” Teddy exclaimed. “And it looked like that big goat Tony Pasqualla keeps in a shack near his garden.”
 
“A goat?” repeated Dick.
 
“Yes, a goat,” declared Teddy again. “I had a better look at it than you fellows. It was a goat as sure as anything.”
 
“Well, then,” said Mr. Crispen, who was getting over his disappointment at the animal’s escape, “no wonder it broke my trap, strong as it was. That goat just butted through the boards.”
 
“I’ll say he butted through!” laughed Teddy. “I’m glad I wasn’t in front of him when it happened. Boy, he sure sailed over the fence as if he had wings!”
 
“Where is he now?” asked the cobbler.
 
“About ten miles from here, I should say, at the rate he was going,” laughed Teddy.
 
“He sure was scared,” remarked Joe.
 
“And mad!” added Dick.
 
“No wonder,” said Teddy. “If that was Tony Pasqualla’s big goat, and I think it148 was from the color, he’s always been kindly treated. To Tony and his family that goat, which they milk, is like a cow. They even bring it in the house, so I heard. No wonder, after having been treated kindly all its life, the goat got mad when it was trapped and shut up.”
 
“Dear me! A goat!” murmured Mr. Crispen. “I was sure it was a deer.”
 
“Well, it did look a little like the mystery deer,” Joe said. “It was brown and white.”
 
“And had horns,” added Dick.
 
“But we couldn’t see it very well. The cracks in the trap were too small,” Teddy remarked.
 
“That’s so,” admitted the cobbler. “I’ll make a new trap and put in bigger cracks. Then we can see what we’ve caught.”
 
Mrs. Traddle, after looking from a window and seeing no signs of any raging animal, came out into the garden again.
 
“Are you fixing,” she asked Mr. Crispen,149 her mouth drawing to a thin line, “to make another trap and set it in my garden?”
 
“I was,” spoke the cobbler.
 
“No,” said Mrs. Traddle firmly. “No more deer traps in my garden! I’ve been bothered enough. Set your deer trap some other place.”
 
“But this is the best place,” protested the cobbler. “The deer has been here once. He likes your garden, Mrs. Traddle. He is sure to come again.”
 
“Well, if he comes again he can go again. He isn’t going to be trapped and turn into a goat to scare a body into a conniption fit. No more deer traps in my garden!”
 
“Well, all right,” said the cobbler, somewhat sadly. “I guess you boys will have to look around for other places where the deer comes and I’ll set my trap there.”
 
“All right,” assented Teddy. “We’ll have to take the trail again, fellows.”
 
“The trail of the mystery deer!” said Joe.
 
150 “What’ll we do about this broken trap?” asked Dick.
 
“I’ll take it back to the shop on my cart,” said Mr. Crispen. “I’ll make a better trap next time. I’m sorry about this, boys.”
 
“Oh, well, you couldn’t help it,” said Teddy. “No one could tell that Pasqualla’s goat was going to get loose and roam into the trap at night.”
 
Mr. Lanter, the butcher, ............