Absence of street boys aside, Robin’s terror seemed to grow until his courage had almost evaporated entirely. Again and again he was tempted to turn back. And why not? For all he knew, he might be exchanging a familiar horror for an unfamiliar one that could be far worse. But he could never erase the picture of that cruel hand raised against Danny. So with his heart in his throat, Robin scurried past the dark, threatening alleys and stairwells, and the boarded-up windows, and went on, trying to get as far away from Hawker as possible.
So far, however, he had not come up with a single idea as to where he should take Danny, or how they were to live. And now he was so tired his brain had shut down. He had heard of cheap lodging houses where for a few pennies he could have a place to lie down for the night. Perhaps in the morning he could think more clearly of what he should do. On the other hand, he had also heard how grim such places were. Like the dark, evil stairwells, they were the roosting places of the worst kind of tramps and thieves. Even if he dared to go into one of these places himself, he would not take Danny into one. Besides, he needed every penny of the two dollars and fifty cents he had in his pocket, that being the remainder of the three dollars his mama had left him after fifty cents had been given to Hawker.
Perhaps he should find the nearest police station, and throw himself on the mercy of the policemen, begging them to find a kind home for himself and Danny so they could stay together. Oh yes, a police station, where, classed as a runaway, Robin, along with Danny, would be back with Hawker Doak within the hour! Worse, what if the pin and locket were discovered in Robin’s pocket? Danny would be tossed back into the arms of Hawker, and Robin himself would be tossed into the arms of a reformatory!
Everything else Robin came up with had the unhappy ending of seeing him separated from Danny forever. He had heard of something called the Foundling Asylum, a place that took in baby waifs, but not older children. And surely not a boy Robin’s age. He had no idea of what happened to babies when they were infants, but once Danny disappeared through their doors, Robin was certain he would never see his little brother again.
On the night Robin had had the long, tearful talk with his mama, she had said that perhaps she should leave Danny in a basket on the doorstep of a big church attended by the wealthy, where he might be taken by some loving family. But, of course, Robin knew she could never have brought herself to take such a desperate measure. Nor had Robin considered it. At least not until this very moment, when he started to think about it.
Church! A big, handsome church attended by the wealthy! What if Robin were to find one and leave Danny on its front step? Who would not want him, this baby with the most beautiful blue eyes in the world, and a cap of soft golden ringlets? And Robin would leave the shopping bag with his cape, his bonnet, his baby bottles, his little tin spoon and bowl, and the two dollars and fifty cents, so his new family could know that this was a baby who had been cared for and loved.
But, and this was an enormous BUT, the big difference would be that Robin himself would be hiding behind a bush, or a church pillar, or even loitering about across the street, and would see who took Danny! Such wealthy people as would be attending the church would surely own a carriage, and Robin would simply take note of the number of that carriage. This clever trick would help him to find the people. After a day or two had passed—ample time, he felt, for them to fall so in love with Danny they would never wish to part with him—Robin would present himself to them as Danny’s brother.
If he were lucky, they might even take him as well, not wishing to see them separated. If not so lucky, they perhaps might allow him to visit Danny from time to time. At least then they would not be lost to one another forever.
However, one problem remained. How was Robin himself to survive? Though he would hate doing it, perhaps he should keep out fifty or seventy-five cents from the two dollars and fifty cents. That would buy him several nights at a cheap lodging house until he found a way to earn money. Perhaps he could become a newsboy after all. But he was too tired to think about it now. All he wanted to think about was putting the tenements far behind himself, and finding the proper church. His steps quickened.
“Where do you think you’re goin’ in such a hurry, my lad?” said a gruff voice, coming at Robin out of the darkness.
Robin froze in his steps. He turned slowly around and found himself looking up into the stern, scowling face of a policeman!
“I … I … I …” Robin stammered.
“Cat got your tongue, eh?” said the policeman. “Well then, maybe you can do better with this next question. What you got in that bundle you’re carryin’, and that bag?”
“It’s … it’s … my baby brother,” quavered Robin. “And his food and clothes are in the bag.”
“Will you be kind enough to step over here under the lamp and let me have look?” inquired the policeman, still stony-faced.
Robin, his legs turned to rubber, quickly moved over to the lamp, and pulled back the corner of blanket around Danny’s face.
The policeman peered down. His face instantly softened. “Why, so it is!” he whispered. “And bless me, he’s fast asleep. Now, step back away from the light, lad. We don’t want to waken him, do we? Oh, I’m Officer Bugle, by the by.”
Robin gratefully stepped back into the darkness, though his heart continued to pump at a great high rate.
“But you have to tell me where it is you’re goin’ at this late hour, and takin’ a baby with you,” Officer Bugle said in a kindly voice.
For a frightening moment, Robin’s brain stopped working. But then he heard himself saying, “My pa is sick, and the baby was crying and keeping him awake. So my mama told me to take him over to my aunt’s. That’s where I’m going now.”
Officer Bugle shook his head with a look showing his view of such an order. “And who is the aunt, and where might she live, lad?” he asked. “It’s safer for you if you let me know that.”
“It’s … it’s Mrs. Kringle,” said Robin, and then proceeded to give the address of the building where he had collected rents earlier that day.
Again Officer Bugle shook his head. “One of those holes,” he muttered under his breath. “But you see, it’s a good thing you told me, lad, because you’re goin’ in just the wrong direction. You need to turn around and go back the other way.”
“Oh, thank you, sir,” said Robin. “I must have taken the wrong turn back there. But I know I can find it now. Thank you very much, Officer.”
“No trouble at all,” said Officer Bugle, smiling. “You’ve a good boy, and you’ve done a fine job gettin’ that baby brother of back to sleep. Take care you don’t wake him. Good night then, lad.”
“Good night, sir,” said Robin, watching Officer Bugle go on down the street, whistling, while he himself turned to go back in exactly the opposite direction from the one he had been taking.
Oh, how much he would have liked to tell this nice man the truth. But the man was a policeman, and he would have had to do what was proper for a policeman to do, deposit Robin and Danny with Hawker. As it was, Robin was going to have to go all around the block to get back to where he would be heading in the right diection to find a church.
Church! What a fine place for Robin to be going. For in something less than two hours he had robbed someone and told a lie. He had suddenly become a thief and a liar. Perhaps that was what it took to survive on the street. If so, he was now well qualified. He only hoped his punishment would never be anything worse than having to go out of his way around the block!
Chapter VI
A Whole Nest!
On and on Robin trudged. Then at last he saw it! The tenements had now been left behind, and there it was—rising tall and stately into the night—the church he was looking for!
Six gas lights on the street around it palely lit up its stone walls and stained-glass arched windows. Rising up from the walls was a lofty spire, now only a shadow against the night sky. At the foot of the church was a lawn lined with spread
ing junipers and clipped boxwood, all protected by a low, wrought iron fence. Through a large opening in the fence, a brick walk led from the street to the massive carved oak doors of the church.
This was just the church, Robin felt as he walked up the brick path with Danny. Surely among all those who came to this beautiful place there would be someone who would love to have him. Robin would just set him down gently on the steps now and—but no! What was he thinking? Leave Danny there the rest of the night? Even with himself curled up somewhere nearby in the bushes, this was about as harebrained an idea as helping himself to the jewelry in Hawker’s precious drawer. More harebrained than that, if the truth be known. For in this case he might be risking Danny’s life, or his safety at the very least.
What he needed to do, Robin decided, was find some out-of-the-way little cubby at the side or back of the church where he could curl up and have Danny right with him. It would be difficult to lay Danny on the front steps of the church in broad daylight, but somehow he would find a way to do it. Danny still in his arms, Robin left the steps and went around a big circle of yews and boxwoods at the corner of the church to make a search for the cubby. But there was not one to be found at the side of the church. He began to think he would find none at all, and would have to curl up with Danny under one of the bushes. But he would not consider that until he had first gone all around the building.
When he rounded the back corner of the church, he found himself in near-total darkness. The street lamps gave just enough light to reveal a pair of iron railings rising up over brick steps that led down to a cellar door. A cellar door that dipped in enough to provide a cubby for Robin and Danny!
But before Robin could take the first step down, he saw a pinprick of light flickering on the pane of a small cellar window halfway down the back of the church. Robin held his breath. Was there someone in there with an oil lamp or a candle? Might that someone be coming through the door? Would he be caught there with Danny? And then the pinprick of light disappeared, and the window became once more only a small square of black glass like all the other windows.
Robin was very, very tired by this time. His arms ached from carrying Danny. His legs ached from walking. And might not his brain be tired enough to be playing tricks on him? He stood watching the dark window for several minutes, and the light never came back. Nor, for that matter, did anyone come through the door.
Once again he started down the steps, and this time went all the way to the bottom of the stairwell. There he discovered it was colder than it had been at the top. No longer warmed by walking, he felt the cold digging all the way through his jacket into his bones. He began to shiver uncontrollably. And what of Danny? He was now snug and warm in his blanket cocoon, but would that cocoon be warm enough down in that stone well during the next few hours, the coldest time of the night?
Why, oh why, could they not be on the other side of that splintered old door? In a sudden burst of despair, Robin grabbed the door handle and began to rattle it, somehow pressing down on the latch as he did. And the door swung open.
Whether someone had forgotten to lock the door, or whether it always remained unlocked, made no difference to Robin. Whichever it was, it was some kind of miracle. He stepped through the doorway, and he and Danny were instantly wrapped in a blanket of warm air. A furnace was clearly at work someplace in the cellar. Yes, this was definitely a place where the two of them could spend the night. Robin closed the door behind him.
With the closing of the door, the pale light from the nearby street lamp was shut out, and the two were now plunged into total darkness. But Robin had seen doors when they came in, doors to rooms. A room was the safest place to be. If they remained in the hallway, they might be discovered in the morning. But how to find a room without first lighting a candle? To do that meant laying Danny down on the floor and risk waking him. Robin did not want to use one of his two precious bottles of milk to put Danny back to sleep, for they might be needed in the morning. Well, why not feel his way around the wall? Was that not what he had done that very morning when he was collecting rents? He was getting to be an old hand at it.
Feeling along the wall with one hand, he started down the hallway. He found a door almost immediately, but it was locked. So was the second. And third. So he went on. But the very next doorway was not only not locked, it was actually open. He walked through it and immediately came to a dead stop. He had heard curious scrambling, scratching sounds. Rats? What else could it be? And then he heard whispered voices that most assuredly did not come from rats.
“Why didn’ you close th’ door behind yerself, jackass?” whispered one voice.
“And who was it fergot to lock the other door behind their-selves, double jackass?” whispered a second.
“Well, what was you doin’ anyways, wakin’ us all up?” came the first voice again.
“Had ter go ter the terlit, if you got ter know,” was the reply.
“Aw, shut up, both o’ you,” whispered a third voice, which then added warily, “Who’s there? Who is it who jist come in?”
Robin stood paralyzed. He could not even have said his name for his life.
“Whoever it is ain’t speakin’ ter us,” came yet another voice. “Whyn’t you jist light yer candle up again, Piggy, an’ let’s us have a look.”
A match was struck, and a candle flared up. And Robin found himself looking into some of the meanest faces and sharpest eyes he had ever been that close to in his life, lodged in the bodies of four assorted boys. If ever he had looked at ragged street boys, he was surely looking at them now. A whole nest of them!
Chapter VII
St. Somethin’
For several moments the boys did nothing but stand and stare, although the fear in their faces instantly vanished as soon as they saw the nature of the unknown threat in the dark.
Then the boy with the candle, the smallest of the lot, who had a twisted leg that made him list heavily to one side, turned a pale, skinny face to the boy next to him. “Whyn’t you arsk him agin, Duck?”
The boy addressed as Duck blew off his forehead a spike of dirty yellow hair, one of several decorating the top of his head, and narrowed his heavy-lidded pale blue eyes at Robin. “All right, you, we’re arskin’ you perlitely this time. We ain’t goin’ ter arsk so perlitely next. Wot’s yer name, an wot’re you doin’ here?”
“I … I … I came in by accident,” quavered Robin, close to collapsing.
The weedy, redheaded boy with a map of freckles on his face, and ears that stuck out from his head like flapjacks, hitched up his pants with his elbows, all swagger and boldness now that they knew what they were dealing with. “Well, you can’t stay. Right, Duck?” he said.
“Right, Spider,” Duck replied through clenched teeth.
“I … I only wanted to stay the night where it’s warm,” said Robin faintly.
“An’ hidin’ wot you got in that bundle yer carryin’, an’ that bag.” The fourth boy swiped the drizzle from his stubby nose with the back of his arm, and then looked at the others with raised eyebrows. “An’ maybe leadin’ somebody chasin’ ‘im right here ter us. Ain’t that so?”
“Sounds so ter me, Mouse. You got a pernt.” Duck glared at Robin. “Wot you got in that there bundle?”
“It’s … it’s my baby brother,” Robin said. “And … and what’s in the bag are his milk, and …”
“He’s lyin’,” Spider interrupted.
“Lyin’,” agreed Mouse and Piggy.
“Show us wot you got,” Duck said. He took a menacing step toward Robin. “C’mon, show us.”
“Show us,” the boys echoed, following Duck.
It was at that moment, just as they were advancing on Robin, that Danny chose to open his eyes, screw up his little face, and start bawling his head off.
Robin, bone weary, empty from having had practically nothing for supper, and now scared out of his wits, felt his legs crumple, as a black curtain came down over him.
When Robin
came to a few minutes later, he was lying on the ground with his cap tossed off to one side, his jacket unbuttoned. His head, which was now hurting fiercely, was resting on a pile of rags. He could not at first remember where he was. All he could see by the light of a single fluttering candle was four boys sitting on the ground in a circle. One of them was holding a candle. It took him a few moments to remember who the boys were.
“Piggy, you ain’t doin’ it right,” one of them was saying.
“Looky here, Spider,” was the reply, “me ma had more babies ’n yers, an’ I got stuck takin’ care o’ most o’ the lot. You don’t know spit ’bout it more’n I do.”
Babies! Danny! Robin struggled to sit up as fast as his hurting head would allow. Where was Danny?
And then he saw his little brother—in the arms of the boy called Piggy, who was sitting surrounded by the other boys. Robin dimly remembered their names as being Mouse, Spider, and Duck. Piggy was holding a bottle, from which Danny was sucking for all his worth, looking contendedly up into Piggy’s face.
“Look, all o’ you,” said Spider, the freckle-faced redhead, “the baby’s brother done woke up.”
“Don’t worry none,” said the spike-haired Duck. “We got yer brother took care o’. All o’ us growed up ’round a ma wot had so many babies you couldn’t o’ swung a bleedin’ cat an’ not hit one.”
“We even changed his dipe,” said Mouse proudly, with a grin that not only wrinkled his stubby nose, but displayed an enormous gap between his two front teeth. “You c’n rinch it out in the sink down the hall. This church got a room down here wot’s got a terlit wot actual cleans out when you go pullin’ a chain. An’ it got this sink in the hallway wot runs hot an’ cold.”
Secret in St. Something Page 4
