Prudy gave up hers without a word, but Dotty demurred.
"I guess I've got eyes both sides my head, just the same as Horace has, if I am a girl."
She and Cousin Horace usually agreed, but this visit had begun wrong.
"Very well, Dot; if you think 'twould be any consolation to you to have somebody come along with a pair of scissors, and snip off your pocket, I don't know as it's any of my business."
"See if they do," replied Dotty, clutching her pocket in her right hand.
They had been speaking in loud tones, and perhaps had been overheard; for two men, on the same seat, began to talk of the unusual number of robberies that had happened within a few days and to wonder "what we were coming to next." In consequence of this, Dotty pinned up her pocket. When they reached Brooklyn, she gave her left hand to Horace, in stepping off the boat, and walked up Fulton Street, with her right hand firmly grasping the skirt of her dress.
"Good for you, Dimple!" said Horace, in a low tone; "that's one way of letting people know you've got money. Look behind you! There's been a man following you for some time."
"Where? O, where?" cried Dotty, whirling round and round in wild alarm; "I don't see a man anywhere near."
"And there isn't one to be seen," said Aunt Madge, laughing; "there's nobody following you but Horace himself. He had no right to frighten you so."
"Horace!" echoed Dotty, with infinite scorn; "I don't call him a man! He's nothing but a small boy!"