“I could try to find them,” said Philo Gubb.
“Well, that’s all I want,” said Slippery. “I don’t want to do nothin’ with them. All I want to know is—where are they? Here’s five dollars.”
Philo Gubb took the money.
“All right,” said Slippery, “now, you find them. They’re upstairs in Mrs. Turner’s bed, between the quilt and the mattress. Go find them.”
“Not until Miss Turner comes home,” said Philo firmly. “It’s her house.”
“Why, you long-legged stork you!” said Slippery, “she knows I’m here for that beer. She sent me.”
“I thought you said Snooks sent you for his clothes,” said Philo.
“Never you mind who sent me for what!” said Slippery, angrily. “You’re a dandy detective, ain’t you? Sittin’ on top of a ladder, and not lettin’ a friend of Snooks help him out. Say, listen, Gubby! Everybody’s goin’ to get into worse trouble if I don’t get away with that beer. Understand? Come on! Let me take it away!”
“When Miss Turner comes back!” said Philo Gubb.
A new knock on the door interrupted them, and Slippery glided to the cellar door, through which Snooks had so recently fled. The kitchen door opened to admit Attorney Smith. He was a thin man, but intelligent-looking, as thin men quite frequently are.