“Let me go get Ricey,” he said at last. “He's got a good nut, an' I'll put th' play up to him.”
“All right,” responded Lulu, impatient in her desolation; “but get a move on! I've wised you; an' now, if you're any good at all, you'll take May out of number Nineteen be th' mop. W'at license has she, or any other skirt for that matter, got to do me out of me Doc?”
The last ended in a howl.
Leaving Lulu in the midst of her complaints, Jackeen wheeled back into the Chatham Club for a word with Rice. Even during his absence, a change had come over the company. He found Rice, St. Louis Bill and Nannie Miller, holding anxious confab with a ratfaced person who had just come in.
“See here, Jackeen,” said St. Louis Bill in an excited whisper, “there's been a rap about that Savoy safe trick, an' th' bulls are right now lookin' for th' whole mob. They say it's us, too, who put that rube in the air over in Division Street.”
“An' th' question is,” broke in Nannie Miller, who was quick to act, “do we stand pat, or do we do a lammister?”
“There's on'y one answer to that,” said St. Louis Bill. “For my end of it I'm goin' to lamm.”
Jackeen had May and his heart troubles upon the back of his regard. Still he heard; and he arrived at a decision. He would run—yes; for flight was preferable to four stone walls. But he must have revenge—revenge upon the Doc and May.
“Wit' th' bulls after me, an' me away, it 'ud be comin' too soft for 'em,” thought Jackeen.
“W'at do youse say?” asked St. Louis Bill, who was getting nervous.