“Who's Pinky Swett?”
“Don't you know Pinky Swett?” and the child seemed half surprised.
“Where does Pinky Swett live?” asked the policeman.
“She did live next door for a while, but I don't know where she's gone.”
Nothing beyond this could be ascertained. But having learned the names of the women who had possession of the child, the policeman said there would be no difficulty about discovering them. It might take a little time, but they could not escape the vigilance of the police.
With this assurance, Mr. Dinneford hastened from the polluted air of Grubb's court, and made his way to the mission in Briar street, in order to have some further conference with Mr. Paulding.
“As I feared,” said the missionary, on learning that the baby could not be found. “These creatures are as keen of scent as Indians, and know the smallest sign of danger. It is very plain that there is something wrong—that these women have no natural right to the child, and that they are not using it to beg with.”
“Do you know a woman called Pinky Swett?” asked the policeman.
“I've heard of her, but do not know her by sight. She bears a hard reputation even here, and adds to her many evil accomplishments the special one of adroit robbery. A victim lured to her den rarely escapes without loss of watch or pocket-book. And not one in a hundred dares to give information, for this would expose him to the public, and so her crimes are covered. Pinky Swett is not the one to bother herself about a baby unless its parentage be known, and not then unless the knowledge can be turned to advantage.”
“The first thing to be done, then, is to find this woman,” said the policeman.