“Bobby! Are you hurt?” Meg called fearfully.
“Bless me, child, I hope you haven’t broken anything,” said Mr. Fritz anxiously.
Bobby felt his way to the bottom of the stairs and found the bag.
“Not unless I smashed the kittens,” he said cheerfully, toiling up again.
Mr. Fritz opened the door of a room at the 146 back of the house and enough light came out to show Bobby and Meg how to go in. Once inside they found it was evidently Mr. Fritz’s sitting room. It was rather untidy, but comfortable and warm, with books and papers spread about.
“Now what can I do for you?” said Mr. Fritz, looking at his visitors very kindly and trying not to show that he was surprised to see them.
“I’m Bobby Blossom,” Bobby introduced himself, “and this is my sister Meg. We came to ask you if you would care if your kittens weren’t drowned.”
“Eh? My kittens––not drowned?” repeated Mr. Fritz. “But they are––I gave that Charlie––what’s his name––Black, I gave Charlie Black fifty cents to drown them for me this afternoon.”
Meg looked ready to cry. Any one that paid to have kittens drowned, must, of course, get what he paid for.
“He didn’t say you paid him,” Bobby said slowly. “Meg and I thought perhaps you wouldn’t care and we could keep them.”