"Now," said Mr. Hucks as they pa.s.sed out of sight, "you"ll just step into the yard and answer a few questions. You too, sir," he turned to Mr. Mortimer and led the way. "Hullo!"--he let out a kick at G.o.dolphus snuffling at the yard gate, and G.o.dolphus, smitten on the ribs, fled yelping. "Who the devil owns that cur?" demanded Mr. Hucks, pushing the gate open.
"I do," answered a voice just within, close at his elbow. "An" I"ll arsk you not to fergit it. Ought to be ashamed o" yerself, kickin" a pore dumb animal like that!"
"Eh?" Mr. Hucks pa.s.sed down into the darkness. "Sam, fetch a lantern . . . So you "re the young lady I saw just now inside o" the van, and unless I"m mistaken, a nice job you"re responsible for."
Tilda nodded. "Dolph"s indiscretion had put her in a desperate fix; but something told her that her best chance with this man was to stand up to him and show fight.
"Is he drowned?" she asked.
"Drowned? Not a bit of it. Only a trifle wet, and a trifle scared-- thanks to that poor dumb animal of yours. A trifle hurt, too."
"I"m sorry he wasn"t drowned," said Tilda.
"Well, you "re a nice Christian child, I must say. Start with kidnappin", and then down on your luck because you haven"t wound up with murder! Where"s the boy you stole?"
"In the caravan."
"Fetch him out."
"Shan"t!"
"Now look here, missie--"
"I shan"t," repeated Tilda. "Oh, Mr. Bossom, you won"t let them!
They"re strong, I know . . . but he"s got a knife that he took when Mr. Mortimer"s back was turned, and if they try to drag "im back to that Orph"nige--"
"Stuff and nonsense!" Mr. Hucks interrupted. "Who talked about handin"
him back? Not me."
"Then you won"t?"
"I"m not sayin" that, neither. Fetch the boy along into my Counting House, You and me must have a talk about this--in fact, I want a word with everybody consarned."
Tilda considered for a moment, and then announced a compromise.
"Tell you what," she said, "I don"t mind comin" along with you first-- not if you let "Dolph come too."
"I shan"t let him murder _me_, if that"s in your mind."
Mr. Hucks grinned.
"You can call the others in if he tries," Tilda answered seriously.
"But he won"t, not if you be"ave. An" then," she went on, "you can arsk me anything you like, an" I"ll answer as truthful as I can."
"Can"t I see the boy first?" asked Mr. Hucks, hugely tickled.
"No, you can"t!"
"You"re hard on me," he sighed. The child amused him, and this suggestion of hers exactly jumped with his wishes. "But no tricks, mind. You others can look after the boy--I make you responsible for him. And now this way, missie, if you"ll do me the honour!"
Tilda called to "Dolph, and the pair followed Mr. Hucks to the Counting House, where, as he turned up the lamp, he told the child to find herself a seat. She did not obey at once; she was watching the dog.
But "Dolph, it appeared, bore Mr. Hucks no malice. He walked around for thirty seconds smelling the furniture, found a rag mat, settled himself down on it, and sat wagging his tail with a motion regular almost as a pendulum"s. Tilda, observing it, heaved a small sigh, and perched herself on the packing-case, where she confronted Mr. Hucks fair and square across the table.
"Now you just sit there and answer me," said Mr. Hucks, seating himself and filling a pipe. "First, who"s _in_ this?"
"Me," answered Tilda. "Me and "im."
Mr. Hucks laid down his pipe, spread his fingers on the table, and made as if to rise.
"I thought," said he, "you had more sense in you "n an ord"nary child.
Seems you have less, if you start foolin"."
"I can"t "elp "ow you take it," Tilda answered. "I got to tell you what"s true, an" chance the rest. Mr. Sam Bossom, "e gave us a "and at the coal-"ole, an" Mr. Mortimer got mixed up in it later on; an" that"s all _they_ know about it. There"s n.o.body elst, unless you count the pore woman at the orspital, an" _she"s_ dead."
"That aunt of yours--is _she_ dead too?"
Tilda grinned.
"You"ve been talkin" to Gla.s.son."
"P"r"aps," suggested Mr. Hucks, after a shrewd glance at her, "you"d best tell me the story in your own way."
"That"s what I"d like. You see," she began, "I been laid up three weeks in "orspital--the Good Samaritan, if you know it--along o" bein"
kicked by a pony. End o" last week they brought in a woman--dyin" she was, an" in a dreadful state, an" talkin". I ought to know, "cos they put her next bed to mine; s"pose they thought she"d be company. All o"
one night she never stopped talkin", callin" out for somebody she called Arthur. "Seemed as she couldn" die easy until she"d seen "im. Next day--that"s yesterday--her mind was clearer, an" I arsked her who Arthur was an" where he lived, if one had a mind to fetch "im. I got out of her that he was called Arthur Miles Surname Chandon, an" that he lived at "Oly Innercents. So this mornin", bein" allowed out, I went down to the place an" arsked to see Arthur Miles Surname Chandon. First thing I noticed was they didn" know he was called Chandon, for Gla.s.son took a piece o" paper an" wrote it down. I was afraid of Gla.s.son, an"
pitched that yarn about an aunt o" mine, which was all kid. I never "ad no aunt."
"What"s your name, by the way?"
"Tilda."
"Tilda what?"
"That"s what they _all_ arsks," said Tilda wearily. "I dunno. If a body _can"t_ do without father an" mother, I"ll make up a couple to please you, same as I made up a aunt for Gla.s.son. Maggs"s Circus is where I belong to, an" there "twas Tilda, or "The Child Acrobat" when they billed me."
"You don"t look much like an acrobat," commented Mr. Hucks.
"Don"t I? Well, you needn"t to take _that_ on trust, anyway."
The child stepped down from the packing-case, stretched both arms straight above her, and began to bend the upper part of her body slowly backward, as though to touch her heels with the backs of her fingers, but desisted half-way with a cry of pain. "Ow! It hurts." She stood erect again with tears in her eyes. "But "Dolph will show you," she added upon a sudden happy thought, and kneeling, stretched out an arm horizontally.
"Hep, "Dolph!"
The dog, with a bark of intelligence, sprang across her arm, turned on his hind legs, and sprang back again. She crooked her arm so that the tips of her fingers touched her hip, and with another bark he leapt between arm and body as through a hoop.
"He don"t properly belong to me," explained Tilda. "He belongs to Bill, that works the engine on Gavel"s roundabouts; but he larned his tricks off me. That"ll do, "Dolph; go an" lie down."
"He"s a clever dog, and I beg his pardon for kicking him," said Mr.
Hucks with a twinkle.