"Call nothing!" exclaimed the big boy, "do you want to get us all run in? Ain't you got no sense?"
Mary Jane looked at him in amazement. What was "run in" and why not call for help when a beautiful doll was drowned?
Alice, too, was surprised at the boy's attitude but being his own age she wasn't backward about asking for an explanation.
"Why not call for help?" she demanded. "How are you going to get the doll out?"
"Don't you worry about that," he said tartly, and then, more politely, he explained, "the park cop told us not to stay close by the water, and here she went and let her doll fall in and if we holler he'll hear sure as shooting and come and order us on. You just stop crying now," he said to the little mother who, frightened by his order to keep still was crying softly to herself, "we'll get her out for you—you just wait!"
"Is she your sister?" asked Alice.
"Sister—nothing!" replied the boy, "think my sister would have such a fine doll? That's my sister," he added, jerking his thumb toward a ragged little girl on the edge of the group, "my sister ain't got no doll—but she ain't a cry baby either!" he added.
Alice looked interestedly at the child thus pointed out. She was a bright, pretty looking little girl with oh, such a poor dress—and no doll? Why she was just Mary Jane's age—but this was no time to stand looking at other folks, and she turned to the water to see what could be done.
Mary Jane, in the meantime, had crept up to the edge of the dock and was peering down into the clear water.
"There it is," she said, pointing, "see? It's right down there! Now, don't you cry, we're going to get it out in a jiffy. I wish I had a long stick to poke with."