"No, this isn't a thunderstorm," answered the Dog. "It is much worse
than any thunderstorm I ever heard. There is going to be a bad time
here, with a flood and everything."
"Who's dat?" asked the voice of Jeff's mother again, as the pounding at
the door sounded a second time.
"The police!" was the answer.
Jeff, who had been awakened, heard this answer. He covered his head with
the clothes, and cowered down in the bed.
"Oh, mah good land!" thought Jeff when he heard this. "De p'lice has
done come to git me 'cause I took de China Cat! Oh, good land! I ain't
so smart as I thought! Oh, dey's gwine 'rest me suah!"
But the police had not come to get Jeff. Once more the officer pounded
with his club on the basement door.
"Come there!" he cried. "Get up and dress and skip out if you don't want
to be drowned! The river is rising. It will flood all these basement
tenements! You'll have to clear out--all of you! Wake up and get out!
We'll help you! Open the door!"
"Oh, massy me! A flood!" cried Jeff's mother. "Does yo' heah dat,
Rastus?" she called to her husband. "Dere's a flood an' we's done got to
run out! Git up an' open de do' an' I'll roust up de chilluns!"
"I'll open the do,' Ma," said Jeff, slipping out of his bed, and as he
swung the door open there stood a policeman.
"Come, boy; lively!" cried the officer.
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