"I never!" denied Jane, sullenly.
He laughed. "I do carry 'em off. But where?"
"I don't know,"—in a flutter.
"Tell her," urged the little old gentleman.
The Policeman leaned his feet against the bill-board. "I'm the man," said he, "that takes lost little kids to their fathers and mothers."
To their fathers and mothers! Gwendolyn came round upon Jane, lifting accusing eyes, pointing an accusing finger, "So!" she breathed. "You told me he stole 'em! It isn't true!" And she wiggled the finger.
Jane edged away, head on one side "Oh, I was jokin' you," she declared lightly. But—accidentally—- she turned aside her grinning front face and gave the others a glimpse of the back one. And each noted how the square mouth was trembling with anxiety.
"Ah-ha!" exclaimed Gwendolyn, triumphantly. "I'm finding you out!"
The Policeman crossed his feet against the bill-board, taking care not to injure any of the articles there displayed. "Yes, I've taken a lot of lost little kids to their fathers and mothers," he repeated. "And I was just wondering if you—"
She gave him no chance to finish his sentence. In her joy at finding that here was another friend, she ran to him and leaned to smile into his face.