Then Master Fernald went out from the hallway, in what he evidently believed was the most approved detective fashion of walking, and, as Plums confidentially told Joe later, "he acted like he was a jumpin'-jack, with some one pullin' the string mighty hard."
The two went slowly up the street, one on either side, and such of the citizens of Weehawken who saw them were mystified by their singular method of proceeding.
Dan quieted down somewhat after half an hour had passed, for no slight amount of labour was required to continue the supposed detective manner of walking, and, before arriving at the house where Joe had taken refuge, he behaved very nearly like other and more sensible boys.
"No, I won't go in," he said, decidedly, when Plums proposed that he call upon the old lady. "You don't catch me showin' myself 'round this place any more'n I can help, 'cause there's no tellin' when the perlice will be here askin' questions, an' I'm goin' to steer clear of trouble."
"Shall I tell Joe to come out?" Plums asked, timidly, for Dan's superior wisdom awed him.
"Of course, else how can I see him? Don't let that kid tag on behind, for it's mighty dangerous to be on the street with her. That advertisement about you had in it that you was last seen with a little girl."
Master Plummer entered the dwelling, and Dan paced to and fro on the sidewalk, with a consequential air, until Joe appeared.
"Why don't you come in?" the latter asked. "Mrs. Weber—that's the name of the lady who owns the house—is mighty nice, even if you can't talk to her."
"I ain't so foolish as to show myself in such places, an' you ought'er let your head be cut off before takin' all these chances."
"But we couldn't keep the princess out-of-doors from mornin' till night, an'—"