Part 44 (1/2)
There was the number in bright silver numerals, but nothing was to be seen of any name.
”Most of them have a name,” he said to himself. ”I wonder who lives here?”
Hal descended again to the street, and walked on to the end of the block.
Here was a small stand with a flaring gasoline torch, at which an old German was selling apples and other fruit.
Hal entered into conversation with the proprietor of the stand, and at length asked if he knew who lived at the place, mentioning the number.
”Dot blace?” The man gave a low laugh. ”I d.i.n.ks me nopody vos lif dere.”
”n.o.body?”
”Nein.”
”But there must be somebody,” urged Hal. ”I saw a man go in.”
”Dot's so, too.” The German laughed again. ”But da don't vos lif dere.”
”Well, what are they doing there, then?”
The apple man put his long finger up beside his nose.
”Dot vos a blace ver dere rich fool vos plow in his money; see?”
”A gambling-place?”
”Oxactly.”
”Who runs it?”
”Dot I don't vos know. I d.i.n.ks me a fellow named Ditson.”
”Do many men go there?”
”Yah. Somedimes so many as two dozen by von night.”
”And they do nothing there but gamble?”
The German nodded. ”Of you got some money you don't vont to kept dot's der blace to lose it.”
”Thank you, but I need all I have,” laughed Hal.
”Den you don't better keep away, ain't it?”
”I think that would be best.”
”Dake mine vort it vos.”
”Did you see many men go in to-night?”