"There he is!" Teenie whispered, excitedly. "How do you s'pose he got in without our seein' him?"
Carrots stood erect and gazed at the prisoner a moment, as if debating whether to approach him or not.
Teddy presented a most forlorn appearance, standing aloof from the other prisoners as far as possible, and clinging to the iron bars, his usually clean face begrimed with dirt, through which the flowing tears had plowed tiny canals until he looked not unlike a small-sized Indian in war-paint.
This picture of sorrow made a deep impression on Carrots's tender heart, and, regardless of whether he might be able to regain his seat, he marched toward the prisoners' cage.
Teddy had seen him coming, and stepped forward in the hope of speaking with this boy who had proved himself to be a real friend; but before a single word could be uttered, the officer interrupted the visitor by saying roughly:
"Get back there!"
"But I've got to talk with that feller."
"Get back there! Do you hear what I tell you?" and he made a threatening gesture which was not at all terrifying to the self-possessed Carrots.
"I've got to talk with this feller; he's a friend of mine, an' I ain't seen him since last night. He's goin' to get right out, too, 'cause he didn't do anything, an' wouldn't have been brought here if he'd had sense enough to run when they hollered 'Cops!' It was jest this way: Skip, he struck out an' hit him in the face, an' then come in with a left-hander—"
Carrots had been advancing while speaking, and at this point the officer seized him by one shoulder, spinning him around until he was heading in the direction from which he had come.