“I’m tellin’ ye no lies.  Come back with me and see for yerself.  The cap will let ye go down and talk to her.  I heard Father Cruse tell ye to keep an eye out for her if she ever came around here agin.  Ye got to hurry or they’ll have her in the Black Maria on the way to the Tombs.  Bunky told me so.”

Kitty stood in deep meditation.  She remembered that Mike had been in the kitchen when the woman sat by the stove.  She remembered, too, that Father Cruse had cautioned her to send word to the rectory if the poor creature came again and, if there were not time to reach him, then to tell Mr. O’Day.  That the priest had not run across the woman at the station-house was evident, or he would have sent word by Mike.  She would herself find out and then act.

“But ye must have seen Father Cruse.  Did he send any word?”

“Yes, he come in just as I was leavin’.  It was him who told me to be sure to hurry back.  See the horse gits some water, will ye?  I got to go back.”

“Hold on—­what did the Father say about the woman?”

“Nothin’, don’t I tell ye?—­he didn’t see her.  They’d locked her up before he came.”

“Why didn’t ye tell him who it was?”

“How was I a-goin’ to tell him when the cap told me to git?”

“Go on, then, wid ye!  If the Father’s still there, tell him I’m a-comin’ up, and will bring Mr. O’Day wid me, and to hold on till I get there.”

She took her wraps from a peg behind the door, threw it wide, and joined her neighbors in the office, composing her face as best she could.

“I’ve got to go over to Otto Kling’s,” she announced bluntly, without any attempt at apologies.  “Some one of ye must go up and bail Mike out—­any one of ye will do.  Mr. Kelsey spoke first, so maybe he’d better go.  I’d go myself and sign the bond only I’m no good, for I don’t own a blessed thing in the world, except the shoes I stand in—­and they’re half-soled and not paid for; John’s got the rest.  I’ll be there later on, ye can tell the captain.  Mr. Codman, please send over one of your boys to mind my place.  John ain’t turned up and won’t for an hour.  That trunk went to Astoria instead of the Astor House, bad ’cess to it, and that’s about as far apart as it could git.  And, Mike, don’t stand there with yer tongue out!  And don’t let Toodles go with ye.  Get back as quick as ye can—­ and tell the captain to make it easy for me, that if the boy’s badly hurt I’ll go and nurse him if he ain’t got anybody to take care of him.  Git out, ye varmint —­thank ye, Tim Kelsey, I’ll do as much for you next time ye have to go to jail.  Good-by”—­and she kept on to Kling’s.

Otto’s store was full of customers when Kitty strode in.  Even little Masie had been pressed into service to help on with the sales, as well as one of the “Dutchies” whom Kling had brought up from the cellar.  The few remaining hours of the old year were fast disappearing and the crowd of buyers, intent on securing some small remembrance for those they loved, or more important gifts with which to welcome the New Year, thronged the store and upper floor.