“Dodger is very brave,” said Florence. “Sometimes I think he is too daring. He is liable to get into trouble.”
“If he does he’ll get himself out of it, never you fear. Dodger can take care of himself.”
Nine o’clock came, and Florence became alarmed. She had not been aware how much she had depended upon the company of her faithful friend, humble as his station was.
Again she went into Mrs. O’Keefe’s room. The apple-woman had been out to buy some groceries and had just returned.
“I am getting anxious about Dodger,” said Florence. “It is nine o’clock.”
“And what’s nine o’clock for a boy like him? Shure he’s used to bein’ out at all hours of the night.”
“I shall feel relieved when he comes home. What should I do without him?”
“Shure I’d miss him myself; but it isn’t the first time he has been out late.”
“Perhaps that terrible Tim Bolton has got hold of him,” suggested Florence.
“Tim isn’t so bad, Florence. He isn’t fit company for the likes of you, but there’s worse men nor Tim.”