"No, sir. I never. But I will. I'd rather an' I must--I must! Oh, I can't let her go to that terr'ble station house where thievers an' bad folks go, an' she so white an' pure an' little an' sweet! I can't. She mustn't. She shan't! So there." At her own enumeration of Bonny Angel's charms, the girl's heart thrilled afresh with love and admiration, and, catching her again into her close embrace, she fell to rapturously kissing the small face that was now "sweet" in truth, from the sticky drops the child had licked. "Nonsense! If you don't know where she belongs, nor have any money to spend in finding out, the station's the only place. It's the first place, too, she'll be looked for, and she'll be well cared for till claimed. You can go along with her, maybe, since you appear to be lost, too," remarked the officer. "But I'm wasting time. You stop right here by Apple Kate's stand, while I step yonder and telephone headquarters. A man'll come over next boat and take you both back." The chance of going "back" to the city whose very paving stones now seemed dear to her did, for an instant, stagger Glory's decision. But only for an instant. Bonny Angel was still the guide. It was Bonny Angel who had brought them to this further shore where, beyond this great, noisy ferry-house were those green terraces and waving trees. It was here, separated by the wide river from all familiar scenes, that her search must go on. A customer came to the stand and occupied Apple Kate's attention, at the same time the wharf policeman walked away to send his message concerning little Bonny. That moment was Glory's opportunity, and she improved it, thinking with good reason: "If onct he gets a-hold on us he won't leave us go. He'd think it wouldn't be right, for a p'liceman. Well, then, he shan't get a-hold!" A few minutes later, when her patron had passed on, Apple Kate looked around and missed the children, but supposed they had followed the officer. Yet when he came back to the stand, he denied that they had done so and angrily inquired "why she couldn't keep an eye on them and oblige a man, while he just rung up headquarters?" To which she as crisply replied, "Huh! My eyes has had all sight o' them they want, and they'll trouble you nor me no more. They've skipped, so you might 's well trot back and ring down whatever you've rung up. They've skipped." CHAPTER X Another Stage of the Journey The ferry-house where the policeman had found Glory and her "Angel" was also the terminus of a great railway. Beyond the waiting-room were iron gates, always swinging to and fro, for the passage of countless travelers; and from the gates stretched rows of shining tracks. Puffing engines moved in and out upon these, drawing mighty carriages that rumbled after with a deafening noise. Gatemen shouted the names of the outgoing trains, whistles blew, trunk-vans rattled, and on every side excited people called to one another some confusing direction.