"And I live," Don continued proudly, "at number theventeen East Theventy-theventh Street." The s's were almost too much for him but he struggled manfully.
"Why, that's very near where I live!" Phyllis exclaimed, relief in her voice. "I'll take you home, if we don't find Nannie."
Don decided that that might be a good idea when, after a short hunt, the missing Nannie was not discovered.
He talked every step of the way home, about brownies, policemen, dogs and fire engines, and Phyllis joined in the discussion whole heartedly and agreed with him that a mounted policeman was indeed superior to a banker on Wall Street.
"For," Don explained, "that's what Nannie says my Daddy is, but I think policemen is nicer."
When they reached the house that Don pointed out as his, they hurried up the steps, but before Phyllis could press the button the door opened and a boy about her own age stood on the threshold.
"I beg your pardon—" Phyllis began, but Don interrupted.
"Hello, Chuck," he said seriously. "This girl bringed me home because I got losted. She's only got two names but she's very nice; she knows all about brownies—"
"Don!"—the elder boy spoke so sharply that Phyllis was startled.
"Thank you very much," he continued, looking at her. "My small cousin is always getting lost, I hope he hasn't bothered you."