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Always Mikky enjoyed these little talks, and when his visitor was gone he would think with satisfaction that this was just the right kind of a father for his little lovely Starr. He was glad the Baby Starr had a father. He had often wondered what it would be like to have a father, and now he thought he saw what the height of desire in a father might be.
When the banker told Mikky that he was going to send him to "college," and explained to him that an education would enable him to become a good man and perhaps a great one, the boy's face was very grave. Mikky had never felt the need of an education, and the thought of going away from New York gave him a sensation as if the earth were tottering under his feet. He shook his head doubtfully.
Sometimes there had been glasses to drain, but Mikky with his observing eyes had early decided that he would have none of the stuff that sent men home to curse their little children. College influence, while there had been little said on the subject, had filled the boy with horror for saloons and drunkards.
He must find out if he could whether anything was known of his origin. Perhaps she could help him. Perhaps, after all, he might be able to trace his family, and find at least no disgrace upon him. "Mikky!" the woman repeated dully. She shook her head. "Mikky!" she said again stolidly, "Wot's Mikky?" "Don't you remember Mikky the little boy that sold papers and brought you water sometimes?
She kept their clothes in order, saw to it that their rooms were aired, their stockings darned and their lights out at exactly half-past nine, but the grimness of her countenance forbade any familiarity, and she never thought of gaining the confidence of her rough, but affectionate charges. There was no tenderness in her, and Mikky never felt like smiling in her presence.
The saving of her life meant nothing to little Starr, but she obediently murmured 'I'ee tank oo! as the nurse had drilled her to do before she brought her, and then laid her moist pink lips on cheeks, forehead, eyes and mouth in turn, and Mikky, in ecstasy, lay trembling with the pleasure of it. No one had ever kissed him before. Kissing was not in vogue in the street where he existed.
They were the water rats, the bad boys, the embryo criminals for the next generation. The problem, with any who thought of them was how to get rid of them. But of course this man from another world did not understand. They merely looked at him dully and wished he would walk away and leave Mikky to them while he stayed. His presence made it seem as if their companion were already gone from them.
They bade Mikky good-bye, pressing their grimy noses against the bars of the station gate to watch their friend disappear from their bare little lives. Endicott himself felt like crying as he came back from seeing the boy aboard the train. Somehow it went hard for him to feel, he should not meet the bright smile that night when he went home.
Mikky had flung himself in front of the beautiful baby, covering her with his great bundle of papers, and his own ragged, neglected little body; and receiving the bullet intended for her, went down with her as she fell. Instantly all was confusion. A child's cry a woman's scream the whistle of the police the angry roar of the crowd who were like a pack of wild animals that had tasted blood.
He was powerful sorry not to see you. He'd always thought a heap o' Mikky!" "How long had he known I was here?" Michael's face was grave in the darkness. Why had Buck not sent him some word? Made some appointment? "Since you first cum back." "Why oh, Sam, why didn't he let me come and see him?" "It warn't safe," said Sam earnestly. "Sure thing, it warn't! 'Sides " "Besides what, Sam?"
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