But Joey was ready for him, and hastily began to pour his earnings from his jacket pocket in a pile upon the flagging. "Me an' Angel made it a-singin' on the street fer to get ice fer Mis' Tomlin," the wily one explained. And the tender-hearted giant, gazing from one small figure to the other, forthwith began to sob like a child.
And, oh, the rejoicings of the distracted Tenement when the lost Angel was returned! And how Joey was seized and violently threatened to be as violently forgiven. Mrs. Tomlin, given ice to her heart's content, fell asleep, blessing the Angel for having rescued her husband from the almost certain hands of the law. And when, next day, it was learned that various and sundry of Mr. Tomlin's friends, among them the red-haired gentleman and his dark companion, had been arrested, while Mr. Tomlin was safe at home, the Angel became more than ever the pride and idol of the Tenement.
"There's some'n' mighty wrong," Mr. Tomlin was heard arguing soon after, "for a man with the bone and muscle to 'em as I've got, wantin' work an' willin' to do anything, yet havin' to starve—but whatever it is as is wrong, I'm thinkin' mobs ain't the way to right it."
"An' if he'd only hed th' sinse to make the furrin' gintleman as could talk the gibberish to question th' Angel choild," said Mrs. O'Malligan indignantly, "sure an' we moight have larned all about her by this toime, entoirely, for there's mony a thing she's tried to tell us an' can't for the want of a worrud. But foind me a man of yer as does any thinkin' 'thout his woman there to prompt him," she quoth contemptuously, "an' I'll foind ye a polaceman as isn't a meddler in other folks' affairs, as this yere mob is jist anither provin' of."
CHAPTER VI.
THE MAJOR SUPERINTENDS THE ANGEL'S EDUCATION.
"It's a nice, cool morning," said the ever sanguine Miss Bonkowski to Joey, one day late in September, "so, if you will give me your solemn promise—" and Miss Norma paused impressively, emphasizing her words with nods of her blonde head, "not to go to any speakings, nor yet to the dock to fish, nor to any fires, or to a procession, even if it's right around the corner," and Miss Norma drew breath as she finished the enumerating of his various exploits, "why, Angel here can play with you until Mary Carew comes down to get her."
The Major—his cap a little more battered, his belt somewhat the worse from constant wear, but clean as to face and hands, having just emerged from the morning inspection of the Armory janitor, better known to the neighborhood as Old G. A. R.—treated Miss Bonkowski to a salute and a confidential wink, and edged up to the smiling Angel's side. "Yer jus' leave her wid me," he responded reassuringly, "an' I ain't goin' to do nothin' as ain't square."
And Miss Norma, whose faith in human nature, phœnix-like, ever sprang up anew from the blighted hopes of former trust, accordingly turned her darling over to Joey and hurried off. "For she's obliged to have some one to play with and to get some fresh air somehow," the chorus-lady argued for her own re-assuring, though it remains a mystery as to how she could deceive herself into considering the garbage-scented atmosphere of the neighborhood as fresh, "and Joey's by far the best of the lot around here."
Meanwhile, the small subject of all this solicitude, in clean frock and smiling good-humor, responded at once to Joey's proposal, and the two sat down on the curbstone. In the constant companionship of their two months' acquaintance, the little Major's growing interest in the Angel had assumed almost fatherly proportions. Hitherto this zeal had taken itself out in various expeditions for her entertainment similar to the one ending in Mr. Tomlin's rescue. To-day it was produced in the shape of a somewhat damaged peach purchased with a stray penny. But the Angel, in her generous fashion, insisting on a division of the dainty, Joey at first stoutly declining, weakened and took half, seeing to it, however, that his was the damaged side.