"I betcher!" said Johnson Boller significantly. "I got a line on her the second I laid eyes on her, kid. Now, I want to tell you something. You're a young sport and these things look different to you now, but the long and the short of a dizzy little——"
"Johnson!" Anthony broke in.
"What now?"
"It—it is not necessary to advise David," said David's captor, quite thickly, for he was familiar with Johnson Boller's views on many subjects and his manner of airing them. "The boy has—er—explained the—ah—young woman and——"
He could get no farther. Johnson Boller eyed him with an amused and quizzical grin.
"Going to keep this kid with you?"
"For a time, yes."
"You know, you're a funny character, Anthony," Boller mused. "If your great-grandmother came to this joint to have a cup of tea with you, you'd want her to stop at the desk and show her pedigree and the family Bible, just so they'd be sure she was your great-grandmother, and your lovely reputation wouldn't have a spot of suspicion on it as big as a pinpoint. But you go and rake this kid off the streets and when his lady friends come in——Where did she come from, kid, and how did she get up here?"
His smile broadened happily as he observed that David had not yet ceased wiggling his back in search of broken bones.
"I explained all that to Mr. Fry," David said rather sulkily.