I wonder, would they send a guy to jail for that?
Or if they turn him loose, what does he do?
It must be lousy to be in this city without any family or friends.
At that point I get the idea I'll write him a letter.
After all, Cat and I sort of got him into the soup.
So I look up the name of the magistrate and spend about half an hour poring through the phone book, under "New York, City of," to get an address.
I wonder whether to address him as "Tom" or "Mr. Ransom." Finally I write:
Dear Tom Ransom:
I am the kid you met in the cellar at Number Forty-six Gramercy, and I certainly thank you for unlocking that cage and getting my cat out.
Cat is fine. I am sorry you got in trouble with the police.