Chapter Eight.
A Ghost in the Cellar.
In the confusion that immediately ensued, Flo found herself torn away from her kind companion, and brought very near to Police Constable 21 B. and his charge. Like most children of her class she had been taught to consider policemen very dreadful people, but she had no fear of this one now: her whole desire was to save Dick. She went boldly up and laid her little dirty hand on the great tall man’s arm.
“Please—please,” said Flo, “it ain’t Dick as tuk them things. Indeed I thinks as Dick is an honest boy.”
“Oh! yes, and I suppose you are an honest girl,” said the policeman, looking down with some contempt at the queer disreputable-looking little figure. “Tell me now, what do you know about Dick? and which of the two is Dick to begin with?”
“That ’ere little chap wot yer ’ave such a grip of,” said Flo, “that’s Dick, and I be ’is sister, I be.”
“Oh! so you are his sister. And what’s the name of the big fellow? you are his sister too?”
“No, I ain’t,” said Flo, “I ain’t that, but ’ee lives wid Dick and me.”
“He does—does he? Perhaps you saw what he did just now?”