Thank you very much, lidy, for bringin' 'im home to roost.'
The four turned swiftly. Two large and ragged boys were crouched
amid the dark shadows of the stairs. They were much larger than
Robert and Cyril, and one of them had snatched the Phoenix away and
was holding it high above their heads.
'Give me that bird,' said Cyril, sternly: 'it's ours.'
'Good arternoon, and thankin' you,' the boy went on, with maddening
mockery. 'Sorry I can't give yer tuppence for yer trouble--but
I've 'ad to spend my fortune advertising for my vallyable bird in
all the newspapers. You can call for the reward next year.'
'Look out, Ike,' said his friend, a little anxiously; 'it 'ave a
beak on it.'
'It's other parties as'll have the Beak on to 'em presently,' said
Ike, darkly, 'if they come a-trying to lay claims on my Poll
parrot. You just shut up, Urb. Now then, you four little gells,
get out er this.'
'Little girls!' cried Robert. 'I'll little girl you!'
He sprang up three stairs and hit out.
There was a squawk--the most bird-like noise any one had ever heard
from the Phoenix--and a fluttering, and a laugh in the darkness,
and Ike said--
'There now, you've been and gone and strook my Poll parrot right in
the fevvers--strook 'im something crool, you 'ave.
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