Escape From Home by Avi

Author:Avi
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 1996-09-09T04:00:00+00:00

It was late in the afternoon when Mr. Pickler stepped out of the second-class carriage in Liverpool. He stretched his legs, brushed his jacket, set his bowler securely upon his head, and, with birdlike eyes, looked about. What he observed were goodly numbers of people—some with children—traveling with trunks and bundles. Emigrants all, he presumed. Mr. Pickler bobbed his head. As far as he was concerned only failures emigrated. Their going could only make England a better place. Congratulating himself that he—and his family—were secure, he concentrated on the task at hand.

After noting the time on the large clock against a wall, Mr. Pickler set himself to observe the flow of porters, policemen, train guards, and ticket agents, as well as the variety of those selling food.

He began his interrogations with a ticket seller. “Can you tell me, please,” he inquired, “when the first train from London arrived this morning?”

“The night train from London, sir? Well now, it usually gets in at about half past eight. Runs fairly to schedule too.”

“Thank you, my good man.”

Mr. Pickler approached a police constable. Having first determined that the man was on duty at the time of the morning train’s arrival from London, he described Laurence and presented the daguerreotype, putting particular stress on the boy’s ragged state. “Might you,” he asked, “recall seeing such a boy this morning?”

The constable, even as he took the picture, replied, “Runaway, eh?”

“Let us just say he is not at home.”

“No end to ’em, sir! Come from all over, they do. Like they were running from the plague. Which is just what our Inspector Knox thinks of ’em, sir, a plague.” The constable handed the daguerreotype back. “I can’t say I saw this one. If you want the truth, sir, they all look alike to me.”

In all, Mr. Pickler interviewed fourteen people, not one of whom had the slightest recollection of the boy he described. It was only when he spoke to a girl selling sugar buns that he met with success.

To begin he showed her Laurence’s picture. “Did you happen to see a boy looking like this?”

The girl squinted at the image. “Maybe, sir, a bit. Though not nearly so fine as that there. Early this morning it was, and the London train just in. It was my first sale. And the one I saw had a welt here, sir.” She touched the right side of her face.

“A welt, you say?”

“Looked nasty, sir. I shouldn’t like to have gotten it. Must of had himself a nasty time.”

“Can you recall anything else particular about him?” the investigator asked.

“Like I said, sir, he was ragged. And very hungry.”

“Hungry?”

“Indeed he was, sir. The man he was with ordered three buns for him. My first sale and the best of the day. That boy—he looked very pinched, he did—swallowed the first bun in a gulp.”

Mr. Pickler felt a stir of excitement. His judgment was proving right—the boy had been abducted. “And you say this boy was with a man?”

“Oh, yes, sir, and a very pleasant gentleman he was too.

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