CHAPTER XXV.
PHELAN MEETS HIS UNIFORM AGAIN.
About the time the Gladwin mansion was ringing with the shrill staccato outbursts of Mrs. Elvira Burton, the owner of that luxurious dwelling was leaning against the Central Park wall a few blocks away engaged in earnest conversation with a small boy.
“You ought to be in bed,” the young man was saying, severely, looking down at the lad and noting how thinly he was clad and yet how little he appeared to suffer from the sting of the chill night air.
“Bed nuttin’,” responded the boy, curtly. “I’m lookin’ fer me dog. Did yez seen him go by––he’s a t’oroughbred an’ lost one ear battlin’ with a bull.”
“Oh, so you’re her brother, then,” laughed Gladwin.
“Who’s brudder?” asked the boy, suspiciously.
“May’s,” said Gladwin, “or I should say the brother of Miss May Henny.”
“Hully gee!” ejaculated the boy. “Did dat kid skin out too after me an’ the old man tellin’ her to stay in bed an’ shut up her bellerin?”