“What are you running over me for?” he demanded, shaking his fist at the bootblack.
The latter began to rub his knees vigorously.
“What are you runnin’ over me for?” he demanded in an injured tone.
Professor Puffer eyed him suspiciously. He hardly knew whether the encounter was premeditated or not, “Did you see a boy rather taller than you dressed in a dark suit? I think you have been blacking his shoes.”
“Yes, I did, and he run away without payin’ me. Is he your boy?”
“Yes. Where did he go?”
“I dunno. You ran over me so that I couldn’t see. Will you pay for the shine?”
“No; he must pay for it himself. But I’ll give you a sixpence if you’ll find him for me.”
“All right! Give me the money.”
“Not now. I’ll wait till you find him for me.”