“Hark! What’s that row in the street? Hear that awful thumping!” cried Bob, seizing his hat and bounding down the stairs, two steps at a time.
Bonny also hurried to the window, but turned from it in instant dismay.
“For the goodness’ sake! It’s my old gentleman, and a policeman has him by the collar!” And before anybody could interpose she had followed her small brother.
CHAPTER III.
A CHRYSANTHEMUM DINNER.
A SECOND time in one day was Bonny Beckwith destined to come to the rescue of the unfortunate Mr. Brook; for she laid her hand appealingly upon the policeman’s sleeve and cried: “Oh, sir! What are you doing? This gentleman is all right!”
The bright-faced girl was no stranger to the officer, who probably knew all the residents of his “beat,” and he asked, in surprise: “Why, do you know him, Miss?”
“Certainly. He is a friend of ours.”
“Then you’d better give him some lessons in conducting himself on the street; that’s all.” With this the roundsman loosened his hold of his victim, and flourished his hand to disperse the crowd of urchins and sight-seers who had gathered on the spot.
“What did he do?”
“Thumped on the door of —— as if he were trying to break it in. Why didn’t he ring if he wanted to, instead of creating a disturbance?”