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The boy had run riot here, had built his bricks in one corner, had stabled a headless wooden horse and cart in another, and had scattered traces of his existence everywhere. There were his little Windsor chair, the nurse-girl's rocking chair, a battered old table, a heap of old illustrated newspapers, and torn toy-books.
Then, the next night, he walked down Philmore Street, and shied the package onto the lawn so that it would be near the door. Next day the paper announced that the police had a clew they knew that the burglar was in town. However, they didn't mention what the clew was. At the end of a month "Burglar Bill of the Silver District was the nurse-girl's standby for frightening children.
The children were about to speak to him when something in his brown and wrinkled face recalled the nurse-girl's remark about "Satan's imps," so they were afraid and ran home. I do not know who started it, but soon he came to be known as "Paddy on the Turnpike," and just what this meant would be hard to say.
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