In Oxford Street
their outline sketched in splashes of mud. For a moment I was paralysed.
"'Why, that 's rum,' said the elder. 'Dashed rum! It 's just like the ghost of a foot, ain't it?' He hesitated and advanced with outstretched hand. A man pulled up short to see what he was catching, and then a girl. In another moment he would have touched me. Then I saw what to do. I made a step, the boy started back with an exclamation, and with a rapid movement I swung myself over into the portico of the next house. But the smaller boy was sharp-eyed enough to follow the movement, and before I was well down the steps and upon the pavement, he had recovered from his momentary astonishment and was shouting out that the feet had gone over the wall.
"They rushed round and saw my new footmarks flash into being on the lower step and upon the pavement. 'What 's up? ' asked someone. 'Feet! Look! Feet running! ' Everybody in the road, except my three pursuers, was pouring along after the Salvation Army, and this blow not only impeded me but
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