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"Mr. Hartship!...MISTER HARTSHIP!!" Tiny hammered on the office door. Eventually, it opened.
"What do you want, Tiny!?" Hartship barked, "You're not supposed to come bothering me, now scat!"
Mr. Hartship was a tall man in his mid fifties. He had blond hair which was starting to turn grey. He wore black shoes, grey trousers, a white shirt and cravat, a waistcoat and overcoat. The sparkling gold chain of his pocket-watch swung ever so slightly from it's position, balancing on the third button of his waistcoat.
"But Mr. Hartship! It's the police, they want to speak to you!" Tiny shouted.
"THE POLICE!?" Hartship barked, "YOU LITTLE..."
"I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!" Tiny whimpered, "But they want to see you and they asked me if I would bring you to them!"
"Oh alright, alright...wait here."
Hartship closed his office door. Tiny could hear drawers and doors being opened and slammed shut. Eventually, the office door opened again. Hartship had a black top-hat and a long black cane in one hand.
"It's a long way to the police-station, my boy..." said Hartship, who had by now, calmed down enough to talk more like an uncle than a mean old businessman, "what say you and I take a cab...come on..."
Stepping out into the street, the man waved his cane at a passing cabby and blew his whistle.
"Hi! Cabbie!" he shouted.
The black hansom cab pulled up at the curb.
"Yessuh?"
"Me and the boy to the nearest police-station!" Hartship said. He pressed some money into the cabdriver's hand.
"Right sah!" said the cabbie, "hop in!...Come on now Beatrice...Yah!!"
Tugging on the reins, the cabbie made his horse and cab do a jerky U-turn, and they took off to the nearest precinct...
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