Part 49 (1/2)
”Bo, what about Bud?”
”Oh, he's lying around somewhere.”
”Hully Chee--d' ye mean--”
”He tried gouging first, but I expected that; then he tried to throttle me, but I throttled a little harder. He's an ugly customer, as you said, but”--Ravenslee laughed and glanced at his b.l.o.o.d.y knuckles--”I don't think he'll be keen to rough it with me again just yet.”
”Bo, I guess you can be pretty ugly too--say, when you laugh that way I feel--kind of sorry for Bud.”
”Why, what's wrong with Spike?”
”Dunno--I guess they've been slinging dope into him. And he's copped it pretty bad from Young Alf too--look at that eye!”
”Spike!” said Ravenslee, shaking him, ”Spike, what is it? Buck up, old fellow!” But Spike only stared dazedly and moaned.
”It's dope all right,” nodded the Spider, ”or else Bud's mixed th'
drinks on him.”
”d.a.m.n him!” said Ravenslee softly. ”I wish I'd throttled a little harder!”
”I guess you give Bud all he needs for the present,” said Spider grimly, ”anyway, I'm goin' t' see. The Kid ain't hurt none. Get him home t' bed, an' he'll be all right s'long, long, Geoff.”
”Good night, Spider, and--thank you. Oh, by the way, who's Heine?”
”Heine's a Deutscher, Geoff. Heine's about as clean as dirt an' as straight as a corkscrew; why, he'd shoot his own mother if y' paid him, like he did--but say, what d' you know about him, anyway?”
”Well, for one thing, I know he's been arrested in Jersey City--”
”Heine? Pinched? Say, bo, what yer givin' us--who says so?”
”Bud, and--”
But the Spider, waiting for no more, had turned about and was running back across the open lot.
CHAPTER XXI
HOW M'GINNIS THREATENED AND--WENT
”Mr. Geoffrey, prayer is a wonderful prop to a anxious 'eart!” said Mrs.
Trapes, leaning over the banisters to greet him as he ascended. ”Mr.
Geoffrey, my hands has been lifted in prayer for ye this night as so did me behoove, and here you are safe back with--that b'y. A prayer prayed proper, and prayed by them as ain't plaguein' the Lord constant about their souls an' other diseases, is always dooly regarded. Yes, sir, a occasional pet.i.tion is always heard and worketh wonders as the--my land, Mr. Geoffrey, look at your face!”
”I know, Mrs. Trapes. Has she come in yet?”
”Not yet--an' glad I am. You're all bleedin'--stoop your head a bit--there!” and very tenderly she staunched the cut below the curly hair with an ap.r.o.n clean and spotless as usual. ”And the b'y--lord, what's come to him?”
”A black eye--two, I'm afraid. Anyhow, I'll look after him and get him into bed before she comes; can you keep her away till I've done so?”
”I'll try. Poor lad!” she sighed, touching Spike's drooping head with bony fingers, ”if she wasn't his sister, I'd be sorry for him!”