Free Alexander Graham Bell: Master of Sound #7 by Ann Hood Page A

filling her nose with the smell of apples and berries.
    But as they neared the pie men, she saw a small gaggle of people standing in front of them meowing.
    “Meow!” they called to the pie men. “Meow!”
    “I don’t get it,” Maisie said. “Why are they doing that?”
    “It’s the meat pies,” Amelia said, wrinkling her nose. “Who knows what kind of meat is inside them?Meat is hard to come by, you know.”
    “But…are there
cats
in the pies?” Maisie asked in disbelief.
    Amelia shrugged. “At the parish they put the dead children inside their pies. Who knows what this lot does?”
    As they walked, Amelia pointed out what all the people scurrying about were doing.
    “He’s a dustman,” she said. “Collects all the ashes and such from the dustbins.”
    The man was indeed covered with gray ash. It coated his hair, his clothes, his shoes. His eyes looked otherworldly peering out from all the dust around them.
    “Coal porters,” Amelia said as men wheeled small wheelbarrows of coal past them.
    “Match girl,” she said with obvious disgust. “Lower even than us, she is.”
    A small group of boys went past, each of them hauling a cloth bag over their shoulder.
    “Rat catchers,” Amelia said.
    “What?” Maisie said, turning to take a look at the boys. Their bags were lumpy with…rats, she supposed, shivering.
    “Here’s our spot,” Amelia said. “People come out of there”—she pointed to a brick building—“and they like a nice orange.”
    But people didn’t come out. Not for a long while. Amelia didn’t seem to mind the waiting. She called hello to some of the raggedy children who passed them. Children out in the street trying to make a half penny.
    Maisie found her mind wandering back to Harrington Square and Grandfather Bell’s nice warm house. She wondered how far it was from here to there. A light rain had started to fall, sending a chill through her. There would be a fire in the fireplace in the drawing room, Maisie knew. And hot tea with cake.
    She took a good look at her surroundings. The police didn’t seem to bother the street children during the day. As long as they were selling something or carrying packages or even doing cartwheels in the street, they seemed to be left alone. So she could probably make it back to Harrington Square without any trouble. But what would she do when night fell again? She thought of the garden across from the square. She could hide in there,couldn’t she? Amongst the tall hedges maybe.
    Besides, she had to get back to Aleck. He was the key to getting them out of this miserable city.
    Them
.
    Her heart lurched at the idea of
them.
Hadley, her first real friend since they’d moved to Newport. Would she ever forgive Maisie for bringing her here and then losing her? And Rayne. Maisie didn’t even know for sure that the sisters were together. Then the image of Felix hit her, his eyes beaming at her from behind his glasses, his cowlick popping up, his…oh, just his
Felix-ness
.
    Where are you, Felix?
Maisie thought.

    “No way,” Felix said, staring up into the long, narrow chimney. “I can’t do it.”
    “You’ve no choice, mate,” Johnny said. “Once you get inside, you’ll feel the little spots where your feet can grip. You climb all the way to the top and—”
    “No!” Felix said firmly.
    Johnny gave him a little shove, sending him toppling forward.
    “Climb,” Johnny said evenly.
    He blocked Felix’s way with his body so thatthere was just chimney in front of him and Johnny behind.
    Felix took a deep breath and pulled himself inside the chimney. It was black in there. Black with soot and black with darkness. He looked up, but it was too dark to know how high it went.
    “Climb!” Johnny yelled.
    It was narrow. Felix wedged himself between the sides and pulled his way up a little, leaving his bare feet dangling free. He paused to catch his breath and think of a way out.
    But the next thing he knew, Johnny was pricking the soles of