"Tim Rafferty."
"Tim Rafferty! Did anybody ever trust you with a carpetbag?"
"I've carried 'em up. But then they mostly goes along, and looks sharp."
"Well, now I'm going to leave you here, with this one. If anybody speaks to you, say you was left in charge. Don't stir till I come back. And—look here! if you see a young woman come in, with bright, wavy hair, and a black gown and bonnet, and if she comes and speaks to you, as most likely she will, tell her I said I shouldn't wonder if this was Number Four!"
And Nurse Sampson went out into the street.
When she came back, the children sat there, still; and Glory McWhirk was with them.
"I don't know as I'd any business to meddle; and I haven't made any promises; but I've found out that you can do as you choose about it, and welcome. And I couldn't help thinking you might like to have this one for Number Four."
Glory had already nestled the poor, tattered child close to her, and given her a cake to eat from the refreshment counter.
Tim Rafferty delivered up the carpetbag, in proud integrity. To be sure, there were half a dozen people in the room who had witnessed its intrustment to his hands; but I think he would have waited there, all the same, had the coast been clear.
Miss Sampson gave him ten cents, and recounted to Glory what she had learned at number ninety-three.