“Can I take Jim along with me?” she demanded, anxiously.
“Along where?” inquired Dulcie.
“To that nice place you said I was goin’ to. I’d like to take him; he’s me brother.”
“I don’t know; perhaps you can,” Dulcie said, doubtfully. “Isn’t it sweet of her to want to take her little brother?” she added in a whisper. “Stolen children always want to do something like that. Their families are so happy to get them back they generally let them have anything they want. Perhaps they’ll let Jim come, and adopt him, and send him to college, and when they grow up, he and Rosy will marry each other. It often happens that way.”
“It’s terribly interesting,” said Molly, “but I wish Avenue A wasn’t quite so dirty.”
“Is it much farther, Rosy?” Dulcie questioned, anxiously.
Rosy shook her head, and pointed to a particularly disreputable-looking building, on the opposite side of the way.
“It’s there,” she announced; “down in the basement.”
The street was piled with snow and refuse, and the children were obliged to pick their way, but they all had rubber boots, and the crossing was effected without much difficulty. Before the objectionable-looking tenement Rosy came to a halt.
“It’s down them steps,” she announced.