The policeman quietly removed his hand from Pinky's shoulder, and glanced toward the woman named Sal, and stood as if waiting orders. “Better lock _her_ up,” said the “queen,” as she had been called. Sal snarled like a fretted wild beast. “It's awful, the way she beats poor Kit,” chimed in the little girl who had before spoken against her. “If I was Kit, I'd run away, so I would.” “I'll wring your neck off,” growled Sal, in a fierce undertone, making a dash toward the girl, and swearing frightfully. But the child shrank to the side of the policeman. “If you lay a finger on Kit to-night,” said the queen, “I'll have her taken away, and you locked up into the the bargain.” Sal responded with another snarl. “Come.” The queen moved toward the door. Pinky followed, the policeman offering no resistance. A few minutes later, and the miserable crowd of depraved human beings had been absorbed again into cellar and garret, hovel and rookery, to take up the thread of their evil and sensual lives, and to plot wickedness, and to prey upon and deprave each other--to dwell as to their inner and real lives among infernals, to be in hell as to their spirits, while their bodies yet remained upon the earth. Pinky and her rescuer passed down the street for a short distance until they came to another that was still narrower. On each side dim lights shone from the houses, and made some revelation of what was going on within. Here liquor was sold, and there policies. Here was a junk-shop, and there an eating-saloon where for six cents you could make a meal out of the cullings from beggars' baskets. Not very tempting to an ordinary appetite was the display inside, nor agreeable to the nostrils the odors that filled the atmosphere. But hunger like the swines', that was not over-nice, satisfied itself amid these disgusting conglomerations, and kept off starvation. Along this wretched street, with scarcely an apology for a sidewalk, moved Pinky and the queen, until they reached a small two-story frame house that presented a different aspect from the wretched tenements amid which it stood. It was clean upon the outside, and had, as contrasted with its neighbors, an air of superiority. This was the queen's residence. Inside, all was plain and homely, but clean and in order. The excitement into which Pinky had been thrown was nearly over by this time. “You've done me a good turn, Norah,” she said as the door closed upon them, “and I'll not soon forget you.” “Ugh!” ejaculated Norah as she looked into Pinky's bruised face; “Sal's hit you square in the eye; it'll be black as y'r boot by morning. I'll get some cold water.” A basin of cold water was brought, and Pinky held a wet cloth to the swollen spot for a long time, hoping thereby not only to reduce the swelling, but to prevent discoloration. “Y'r a fool to meddle with Sal,” said Norah as she set the basin of water before Pinky.