The children felt the danger in the air, and
watched their uncle with quivering admiration. Only their uncle stood
alone, whereas behind the Policeman stretched a line of other
policemen that reached to London and was in touch with the Government
itself.
"What has he done?" repeated their champion.
"He's disappeared," came the deep-voiced answer.
"There's no crime in that," was the comment, given flatly.
"But he's disappeared with"--the Policeman consulted his notebook a
moment--"a chicken and a roll of butter what don't belong to him--"
"Roll _and_ butter, did you say?"
"No, sir, roll _of_ butter was what I said." He spoke respectfully,
but was grave and terrible. "He is a thief."
"A thief!"
"He lives nowhere and has no home. You see, sir, duty is duty, and
we're expected to run in people who live nowhere and have no homes."
"Which road did he take?" Uncle Felix clearly was pretending in order
to gain time.
The man of law looked puzzled. "It was a roll of butter and a bird,
sir," he said, consulting his book again, "and my duty is to run him
in--"
"The moment you run into him."
"Precisely," replied the blue giant.
Pages:
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150