There was water in the
streets. With the rising of the river and the rain, the streets were
almost like little creeks themselves. Outside the tenement stood the
police patrol wagon. As many of the poor people as possible had been
crowded into it, Jeff and his folks among them.
"Are any more left in your rooms?" asked the officer who had pounded
with his club on the door to awaken the sleepers.
"No, we's all out," answered Jeff's mother.
"Think I'll take a look and make sure," said the policeman. Back through
the flood he waded in his rubber boots, and down he went into the
basement where the lamp was still burning.
"Any one here?" asked the officer.
He listened, but there was no sound save the pelting of the rain, the
roar of the river, and the trickle of water as it rose higher and
higher in the basement. Up on their shelf the China Cat and the Cloth
Dog sat and looked down. They had not dared to speak or move while any
one was in the room. But they had just begun to feel that it was time
for them to do something to save themselves when the policeman came in
again. Then they had to remain quiet, though they were much afraid of
being drowned in the flood.
"Hello!" suddenly exclaimed the police officer as he saw the China Cat.
"Seems to me I know you! I remember about you! I wonder how you got
here? You were among the toys taken from Mr.
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