“Well, I pretty near snared um,” was The Whimperer’s reply. “Anyway, I got um in camp in de jungles, an’ he’s poundin’ his ear. I’ll get um away on de t’rough freight to-night, an’ den I guess I c’n swing um. But it’ll cost some jack, ol’-timer. I’ll hafta be punglin’ up to de shacks so’s we c’n ride safe in boxcars. I gotta do dat to keep from gettin’ separated from um. Youse better come acrost wid sumpin, hadn’t youse?”
“How much d’youse want?” asked Wolfgang, not seeming to relish the suggestion.
“Slip me ten bones.”
“I’ll give youse five.”
“Nuttin’ doin’! Five won’t put us—”
“Here—take it and shut up! Dere’s more w’ere dis come from, an’ youse’ll get it w’en youse need it. I know youse, Whimp—if youse get yer glommers on too much coin youse’ll get lit an’ let de kid slip away. Five’s enough f’r now.”
Grumblingly the John Yegg accepted the tendered bill and hid it in his pocket. “Well, wot’s to do?”
“Jes’ stick to um, dat’s all youse’ve gotta do.”
“But wot’s it all about, Slim? Youse only tol’ me dat youse follied dis plug from Hathaway, lookin’ fer some experienced tramp to put on his trail. Well, youse was lucky in findin’ one, Jack, an’ I’ll do pretty near anyt’ing to get me gloms on a piece o’ kale. But wot do I do, an’ w’y do I do it?”
“Youse don’ need to know any more dan I already tol’ youse,” husked Wolfgang. “Youse do wot I say an’ I’ll pay your expenses, an’ w’en de proper time comes I’ll slip youse de biggest piece o’ jack youse ever had yer mitts on. Ain’t dat enough?”