Barber had no time to answer this. He was pulling at the strings, too, trying to break them. "Let go up there!" he shouted.
"It wass my basket!"
With a curse, "I don't care whose basket it is! Let go!" he ordered, and gave such a wrench at the strings that all parted, suddenly, and the basket was his. "Y' think y're pretty smart, don't y'?" he demanded, head out of the window again; "helpin' this kid t' neglect his work!"
"I pay you always, Mister Barber," she answered, "if so he makes his work oder not!"
"Yes, and he knows it, Mrs. Kukor!" Cis called out.
"Don't you ever set foot in this here flat again!" ordered Big Tom.
"That's right!" retorted Cis, as fearless as ever. "Drive her away!—the best friend we've ever had!"
"You been hidin' these here books for him!" Barber went on, his head still out of the window, so that much of what Cis was saying was lost upon him.
"Ja! Ja! Ja! Ja!"
"Don't y' yaw me!"