"Hold on there, Bill,--I see that! Look out, Sally! You'll be sorry if
you throw anything,--mind you that!"

And at last they were through the crowd. Not out of danger, it seemed;
for there, directly in their narrow path, was a drunken man, swaying
from side to side in the way which is so terrible to one unused to such
sights. Dick felt the hold on his arm tighten, and was astonished at the
sound of his own voice as he said, soothingly:--

"You needn't be scared at him, mum; that's only old Jock; he's as ugly
as old Nick himself, but he knows better than to be very ugly to me. I
can throw him in the gutter as easy as I could them young ones, and he
knows it. That's Dirk's father, that is! Ain't he a beauty?"

And again Mrs. Roberts uttered an exclamation of dismay, and part of her
terror went out in sorrow over the wrongs of a boy who had such a home
and such a father. What ought to be expected of him?

That interminable alley was conquered at last, and they emerged into
respectability on the broad avenue. Mrs. Roberts released her hold of
her protector's arm, and his new character vanished on the instant.

"You're here, mum," he said, with a saucy twinkle in his eye and a saucy
leer on his face. "Can you get yourself home from this spot, or shall I
borrow a wheelbarrow and tote you there?"

Much shaken with various emotions though she was, Mrs. Roberts forced
herself to laugh. She would not frown on his fun when it was not
positively sinful; he might not be aware that it was disrespectful; he