“Well,” Ken said, “maybe the laugh will turn out to be on us after all. But so long as we can pick up new links in the chain we might as well keep going.”
“That reminds me.” Sandy spoke through chattering teeth. “Link sausage makes a fine meal.” But he moved steadily along beside Ken toward the little shop up ahead.
They approached it warily, but when they got close they saw that its windows were so steamed up that they were no longer transparent.
Ken’s teeth were chattering, too. “Maybe we could go right in,” he said. “At least it would be warm. And nobody in there would be likely to recognize us.”
The wind from the river cut like ice.
“It’s an idea,” Sandy said. “Maybe they sell chocolate. Though right now I think I could even eat chewing tobacco.”
Suddenly a shadow appeared against the steamy glass of the shop’s door. The boys swung around and walked quickly into the entrance to a shop two doors away. Feeling safe in the darkness, Ken poked his head out far enough to see.
The broad-shouldered man who came out of the small cigar store was wearing a pea jacket. A knitted stocking cap perched high on the round head above his short bull neck.
He walked toward the boys and passed within a few yards of them.
“He’s got it,” Sandy said quietly.