"Yes, he did--said you tried to kill your mother, and had a
carving-knife hidden in the room."

"It's a lie--an outrageous lie!" exclaimed Dodger, his eyes flashing.

"Don't go into one of your tantrums," said the man, rather alarmed;
"it won't do any good."

"But I want you to understand that I am no more crazy than you are."

"Sho? I know better. Where's your carving-knife?"

"I haven't got any; I never had any. That negro has been telling you
lies. Just go to the door again, and insist on seeing me."

"I wouldn't dast to. You'd stab me," said the man, fearfully.

"Listen to me!" said Dodger, getting out of patience. "I'm not crazy.
I'm a newsboy and baggage-smasher. An old man got me to bring his
valise here, and then locked me up. Won't you go around to the
station-house and send a policeman here?"

"I'll see about it," said the young man, who did not believe a word
that Dodger had said to him.

"He won't do it!" said Dodger to himself, in a tone of discouragement.
"That miserable nigger has made him believe I am a lunatic. I'll have
him up, anyway."

Forthwith he began to pound and kick so forcibly, that Julius came