y preaking mine vinder, hey,
you Crazy Gim? I vos got you locked up. Ain't it? Bolice! bolice!"

The German storekeeper continued to yell so loudly that it was not long
before an officer appeared. Seeing this, Jerry backed out of the crowd and
hurried off. He saw the policeman catch Crazy Jim by the arm, and a wordy
war followed. A minute later the fellow was being marched off to the
station-house. No doubt the policeman would have liked it had he found
Jerry, but our hero kept at a safe distance.

It was now quite dark, and it was with some difficulty that Jerry again
found the little girl. She stood by a hitching post, sobbing bitterly.

"Where is he?" she asked, choking back her sobs.

"The policeman took him off. Don't cry any more," Jerry added,
soothingly.

"But where shall I go?" she asked. "I can't go back."

"Have you no friends?"

"No. Crazy Jim and I came to New York alone when papa died."

"Where did you come from?"

The little girl shook her head at this. She had been too young to
remember.

"What is your name?"

"Dottie."

"Dottie what?"

"Nothing, only Dottie."

Jerry was in a quandary. To a certain degree he felt responsible for her
present forlorn condition. Suddenly an idea struck him.

"If you will come with me, I'll see to it that you have a good bed
to-night, and breakfast in the morning," he said. "And after that I'll see
what I can do for you, Dottie."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Jerry Upton."

"You look like a nice boy and I'll go with you," and she placed her hand
confidently in that of the young oarsman.

Jerry took the little one to Nellie Ardell's apartments. Of course she was
much surprised, and, sitting down, our hero had to explain everything as
far as he was able. Nellie Ardell agreed instantly to take the little girl
in.

"You can stay here until we can do something for you," she said. "I know
how it would feel to have little Tommy on the streets homeless."

And soon after that Dottie was put to bed, very well content. Her hard
life with Crazy Jim had made her used to ups and downs that no ordinary
little girl could have endured.

The reader can well imagine that Jerry did not sleep much that night. He
could not forget that Alexander Slocum had the precious packet of papers.
Bitterly he regretted not having taken better care of the documents.

"I will call on Slocum, and come to some sort of an understanding," Jerry
said to himself. "Perhaps when I tell hi