CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
WHAT BECAME OF THE ROPE.
I nearly fell headlong down as I reached the stairs, for my foot went through a hole in the boards, but I recovered myself and began to run down as fast as I dared, on account of the rickety state of the steps, while Ike came clumping down after me, and we could hear the big ruffian's voice saying something loudly as we hurried from flight to flight.
There were knots of women on the different landings and at the bottom of the stairs, and they were all talking excitedly; but only to cease and look curiously at us as we went by.
There was quite a crowd, too, of men, women, and children in the court below as we left the doorway; but Ike's bold manner and the decided way in which he strode out with me, looking sharply from one to the other, put a stop to all opposition, even if it had been intended.
There were plenty of scowling, menacing looks, and there was a little hooting from the men, but they gave way, and in another minute we were out of the court and in the dirty street, with a troop of children following us and the people on either side looking on.
"But, Ike," I said in a despairing tone, "we haven't got the rope after all." "No," he said; "but I've got you out o' that place safe, and I haven't got much hurt myself, and that's saying a deal.

Talk about savages and wild beasts abroad! why, they're nothing." "I didn't see any policemen, Ike," I said, as I thought of their power.
"More didn't I," he replied with a grim smile.

"They don't care much about going down these sort o' places; no more don't I.

We're well out of that job, my lad.

You didn't ought to have gone." "But that boy was running off with the best cart rope, Ike," I said despondently, "and I was trying to get it back, and now it's gone.