'Come along, Master Bobby, we had best go home; if that boy likes to follow us he can, and I'll give him an old pair of trousers that your father gave me to give away. If he's too high and mighty to take them he can go his own way. Many of these London boys dress themselves in rags on purpose to excite pity.'
'Do come home with us,' said Bobby, turning to Curly appealingly.
He grinned, made a dart in the opposite direction, and was soon lost to view. The children walked home soberly, but their astonishment was great when they were going up the flight of steps that led indoors to turn and find Curly standing behind them.
'You are a funny boy,' said Bobby; 'I finked you had gone home.'
'I wish he had,' muttered Margot; 'there's no trusting these sort.'
But she told him he might come in and sit in the hall, and told the children to stay with him while she went to get what she had promised him. True made her way to the landlady to get a piece of cake for him. Bobby stayed by his side and talked, as only Bobby could talk.
'Tell me where you reely lives. I am so very glad you saved Nobbles' life; he's my dearest, bestest friend in the world!'
'He's a rum 'un!' said Curly, regarding Nobbles' little head with some interest. 'Well, when I lives at 'ome it's 7 Surrey Court. Now you ain't no wiser, I bet!'
'I could find it if I wanted to. I'd ask a policeman to take me,' said Bobby confidently. 'Do you go to school, or are you too grown-up?'
'Much too grown-up by long shakes!' said Curly with his broad grin; 'no school for me if I know it.'