No sooner had Sam pulled out his red handkerchief, and given a snort that knocked the cornet fellow in the Dime Museum across the street silly, than I saw a good-looking chap with black whiskers and very respectable, come across the Bowery.
He walked right by me, so I got a good look at him. Next thing I knew he was talking to Sam.
I watched ’em for near half an hour. He seen me watching, too, and got nervous, but this was just what I wanted, so I never budged.
Bimeby he give it up, and Sam went back into the hotel, Mr. Clancy making tracks down the Bowery as fast as ever he could go.
“That’s all right,” says I. “So far first-rate.”
I wanted to speak to Sam most awfully, but I didn’t dare, for you see I couldn’t tell who might be watching, so I just scooted down the Bowery, and catching up with man, gave him a tap on the shoulder.
You’d just orter seen him turn on me, but I was as cool as a cucumber, you bet.
“What yer want?” he says.
“You,” says I, showing my shield.
He turned white and then began to bluff.