"So I've found you at last," said James Martin, looking grimly at Rose, bending over so that the fumes of his breath, tainted with liquor, seemed to scorch her innocent cheek.
"Let me go," said Rose, terrified and ready to cry.
"Let you go!" repeated Martin, with a sneer. "Is that all the welcome you've got for me, after I've taken the pains to come clear over from Brooklyn to find you? No, I can't let you go; I'm your father, and you must go with me."
"I can't, indeed I can't," said Rose, in distress "I want to stay with Rufie and Miss Manning."
"I can't allow it. I'm your father, and I'm responsible for you. Your brother aint fit to have charge of you. Come along."
He seized her by the shoulder, and began to push her along.
"I don't want to go," said Rose, crying. "I don't want to leave Rufie."
"I don't care what you want," said Martin, roughly."You've got to come with me, anyhow. As for your brother, I don't want him. He'd be trying to kidnap you again. I might have put him in prison for it; but I'll let him go this time, if you don't make any fuss."
"What is the matter?" asked a policeman, who came up as Rose was struggling weakly in the grasp of her stepfather. "What are you pulling along the little girl for?"
"Because she won't come without," said Martin. "She ran away from home with her brother a few weeks ago, and I've just found her."