“Look here, young gentleman,” said the man, coming to me, “we aren’t used to be kept awake all night by your noise or your baby’s. You may tell your papa he needn’t send you here again. There’s half a dozen of my visitors leaving to-day, because they couldn’t get a wink of sleep all night.”
“No more could I,” said I.
He was going to say something more, but just then a man came in from the street. Directly he spotted the kid, he rushed up to him.
“Why, it is Tommy,” said he.
Tommy put on a grin, and dug his hands into his pockets. “I’ve got a knife,” said he, “of my very own.”
“Are you the young gentleman who left the message at Waterloo?” said the man. “Why, the letter I got said the train got in at 8 a.m., not 8 p.m. You don’t know what a turn it gave me to go down there this morning and not see him. Have you had him here all night?”
“Rather,” said I.
“Daddy, there’s an ugly man came to this house. I can see him now, with a red nose. Look there!”
“I hope he’s been a good boy,” said the proud father. “I’m sure I’m much obliged. I’m afraid he’s been a trouble to you. I’ve got a cab here. My word, I’m glad I’ve got you safe, Tommy, my boy. Come, say good-bye to the kind gentleman.”
“He was naughty, and spilt the water on the floor. He must be whipped—ha, ha!” observed Tommy, by way of farewell.