to hearing himself addressed officially a hundred or a thousand times a
day, was yet utterly unaccustomed to the prefix of "Mr.", and started in
surprise.

"Are you not the gentleman whom I saw at the South End last Sabbath?"

The policeman admitted that he probably was. He was detailed for duty
there. Then she plunged at once into business. Did he know the boys who
attended that school? Some of them he did, better than he wanted to; and
a precious set they were, in Policeman Duffer's opinion.

"Might as well go out to the Zoo," he declared, "and get a set of
animals and try to tame 'em."

Mrs. Roberts was not in the mood to argue; she was bent on information.
Did he know, she wondered, the boys who composed her class? She had just
taken the class, and was so unfortunate as not to be acquainted with
their names. One was Dirk Colson, and another she had heard was
Haskell--Timothy Haskell, perhaps, though of that she was not certain.
Did that give Mr. Duffer any clue?

"Plenty of clue," he said, shaking his head. "So you've taken that
class, ma'am?"--a curious mixture of amazement and credulity in his
voice. "What possessed you, if I may be so bold? They're a hard lot,
ma'am. I know them, as I said, altogether too well. I've had enough to
do with some of them; and I expect more work from them. They gain in
wickedness in a most surprising way. Their names, yes; there's Scrawley
and Sneaking Billy, and Black Dirk,--him you know."

Mrs. Roberts interrupted him. She begged his pardon, but could those