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Updated: May 1, 2025
"The boy seems a very kind and respectable boy," said Jane, who had been quite won by Dodger's kindness to her young mistress. "He may be respectable, though I am not so sure of that; but his position in life is very humble. He is probably a bootblack; a singular person to select for the friend of a girl like Florence."
"Shure I'd miss him myself; but it isn't the first time he has been out late." "Perhaps that terrible Tim Bolton has got hold of him," suggested Florence. "Tim isn't so bad, Florence. He isn't fit company for the likes of you, but there's worse men nor Tim." "Didn't he send out Dodger to commit a burglary?" "And if he hadn't you'd never made Dodger's acquaintance."
This was meant to catch the sentry's eye and attract his attention while I did some creeping and crawling and got round the other side of the work, where I was able to complete our survey in all its details. It was late that night when we met in the "dodger's" bedroom, and we made complete tracings and finished drawings, each of us taking his own copy for his own headquarters.
Then he saw approaching a young man, not far from twenty-one, who looked like a young mechanic, returning from his daily work. Now was Dodger's opportunity. He put his head out of the window and called out: "Hello, there!" The young man looked and saw him at the window. "What do you want?" he asked. "Catch this paper, and read what there is on it."
At first, whenever he felt a hurt Nimble only fought the harder. When Dodger's horns gouged him and his hoofs cut him Nimble butted and thrust and struck all the faster. But for every buffet he repaid Dodger, Dodger gave him another that was heavier than ever. It was no wonder that in time Nimble began to feel tired. But he didn't let Dodger the Deer know that.
Nimble and his friend Dodger the Deer picked themselves up off the ground where they had fallen after their collision in the air. They did not feel any too pleasant. One of Dodger's sharp tines had given Nimble a good prick. And one of Nimble's points had stung Dodger like a hornet's sting. If only one of them had been pricked the whole affair might have ended differently.
'Yes, said the Jew; 'that is, unless they should unexpectedly come across any, when they are out; and they won't neglect it, if they do, my dear, depend upon it. Make 'em your models, my dear. Make 'em your models, tapping the fire-shovel on the hearth to add force to his words; 'do everything they bid you, and take their advice in all matters especially the Dodger's, my dear.
It was about this time that the quiet tenor of Dodger's life was interrupted by a startling event. He still continued to visit the piers, and one afternoon about six o'clock, he stood on the pier awaiting the arrival of the day boat from Albany, with a small supply of evening papers under his arm. He had sold all but half a dozen when the boat touched the pier.
"I wish you to see every detail of the boat handling." At Lieutenant Jack's command the crew threw the hawsers aboard and soon had them out of the way. Benson gave the starting signal to Eph Somers. No sooner had the "Dodger's" hawsers been cast aboard than the submarine torpedo boat headed out. It was a get-away swift enough -almost to take the breath of the midshipmen.
Martin had always taken considerable notice of Dodger, being naturally fond of boys, and having once had a son of his own, who was killed in a railroad accident when about Dodger's age. "Danged if I know!" answered Tim, crossly. "He hasn't left you, has he?" "Yes; he's cleared out, the ungrateful young imp! I'd like to lay my hands on the young rascal." "Was he your son?"
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