“Every cent of it, hang the luck!”
Bob thought for a moment.
“Would you mind showing me the way to Cabot’s place?”
“Certainly not. Come on. I’m feeling better than I did a while ago.”
Walter Anderson led the way down the street, and into a dirty square fronting the river.
“See that fancy light over on the corner?”
“Yes.”
“That’s it. Cabot calls it the Rivermen’s Rest. It is nothing but a thieves’ den.”
“Now listen to me,” said Bob, earnestly. “If I go in, will you stay here till I come out?”
“Yes, but——”