He thrust his hands into his empty pockets. His heart was swelling. He breathed hard. Suddenly Pete, his thin lips askew, his eyes narrowed to the merest slits, till it seemed surprising that so much slyness could look out thence, nodded his head again and again, till the motion seemed automatic, as if he were a queer bit of bobbing machinery.
"What d' ye mean by that?" cried Edward, observing him dubiously, mystified and in some sort offended by this enigmatic dumb show.
Pete's bullet head became stationary; pride and munificence were alike expressed in his features.
"I kin give ye a free pass ter the theaytre," he declared with magnified importance. "I'm the boss,—an' don't ye forget it."
"Wha'—wha'—wha' say?" stuttered Ned excitedly.
Pete glanced apprehensively over his shoulder in the closing twilight. "D' ye know Gorham's theaytre?" he asked.
Edward nodded.
"It's got a window,—a back window,—what ain't more 'n eight feet off 'n the ground." Pete made this announcement in a mysterious gurgling whisper.
Edward stared.
"Ef ye'll boost me, I'll lean out an' reach down an' give ye a lift," Pete explained.