“So you live with Crazy Jim?” said our hero, to the little girl, slowly.
“Yes, sir.”
“How long have you lived with him?”
“Oh, a long while, sir.”
“Take me to him.”
At this request she drew back in horror.
“Oh, I can’t do that, indeed I can’t,” she faltered.
“Why not?”
“I took a man to him once—a charity officer—and daddy—whip—whipped me for it.”
“Then show me where he lives,” went on Jerry after a pause. “You needn’t let him see you. I must have a talk with him. Perhaps I’ll give him some money.”