“I’ll make it fifty cents,” he declared. “Two good, new quarters. What do you say?”
“I tell ye you’ll git your face broke sure if Bill don’t know yer.”
“I’ll chance it.”
“Den I’ll take yer to ’em. Come on. Leggo my collar. Gimme der money first.”
“Not on your life! I’ll pay the minute I put my eyes on Bill—not before.”
The urchin led him amid the wharf buildings, where the smell of the water was strong. Through an old lumber-yard they went, coming out at last to a sagging building.
“Sh!” cautioned the boy, as he stole forward on his toes.
Snodgrass stepped lightly, but did not hesitate to follow.
The boy opened an old door, and they entered the lower part of the building. There they paused, and the mumbling sound of voices reached them from some place up above.
Still motioning for Snodgrass to be still, the boy led the way to a ladder that led up through a square scuttle-hole above. Up the ladder the lad softly skipped, and Snodgrass followed at his heels. The heart of the college man was thumping heavily in his bosom, for this was more of an adventure than he had counted on when he started out.