"'Cause if they are,
we'd rather stay here; we've got things to eat--"
"Yes, we've got lots of things," broke in Alan; "see," pointing to the
miserable-looking fruit on the end of the bench, "all that! Judge bought
it; we couldn't get the bank open, but the fruitman took it,--he said
he didn't mind,--an' let us have all these things for it; wasn't he
kind? We're going to have a party."
Well, for a few minutes I didn't know what to do,--I mean how to get
them to go home without a fuss. I could see that Paul and Alan were just
ready for mischief; if they started to run in different directions, I
couldn't catch both, and there were those dangerous cable cars not very
far away. Suppose the boys should rush across Broadway and get run over!
I suppose I could have called a policeman, and got him to take us all
home, but I knew that'd make a terrible fuss; Kathie and Maedel would
howl,--they're awfully afraid of "p'leecemen," as Alan calls them, and I
really don't care very much for them myself. At last I got desperate.
"See here, children," I said, "I've been sent to find you if I could,
and to bring you home, and I've _got_ to do it, you know.
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