snatching the hat he had thrown upon a chair as he entered, rushed
out of the room and down the stairs at headlong speed.

But, before he could possibly have reached the Garden, the sun had
set, all visitors were excluded, and the gate-keeper had gone home.
Nothing daunted, Teddy scaled the high iron fence; ran rapidly
through all the paths, arbors, nooks, and corners of the place; and
finally returned over the fence, just in time, to be collared by a
policeman, who had been watching him: but so sincere was the boy's
tone and manner, as he assured the official that he was after no
harm but was looking for his little sister, who had been taken away
from home, and, as he feared, lost, that the guardian of the public
peace not only released him, but inquired with some interest into
the particulars of the case; saying that he had been likely to
notice any one remaining in the Garden longer than usual.

Teddy, with anxious minuteness, described the appearance both of the
lost child and the "organ-fellow," as he called Giovanni; and gave
the particulars of their leaving home as his mother had given them
to him. The policeman listened attentively, but shook his head at
the end.

"Haven't seen any sich," said he. "Them I-talian fellers is a bad
lot; and I shouldn't wonder if he'd took off the child to learn her
to play a tambourine, and go round picking up croppers for him.
You'd better wait till morning; and, if they don't turn up, her
mother can go and tell the chief about it."

"Chief of police?" asked Teddy.