Master Chandler shook his head doubtfully, and appeared to be on the point of indulging some disparaging remark, when his attention was diverted by a lad on the opposite side of the street, who was making the most frantic gestures, and, as might be guessed by the movement of his lips, shouting at the full strength of his lungs; but the words were drowned by the rattle of vehicles and other noises of the street.
“There’s Pip Smith, an’ what do you s’pose he’s got in his ear now?” Tim said speculatively; but with little apparent interest in the subject. “He’s allers botherin’ his head ’bout somethin’ that ain’t any of his business. He allows he’ll be a detective when he gets big enough.”
Seth gave more attention to the caresses Snip was bestowing upon him than to his acquaintance opposite, until Tim exclaimed, with a sudden show of excitement:
“He’s yellin’ for you, Seth! What’s he swingin’ that newspaper ’round his head for?”
Perhaps Tim might have become interested enough to venture across the street, had Master Smith remained on the opposite side very long; but just at that moment the tide of travel slackened sufficiently to admit of a passage, and the excited Pip came toward his acquaintances at full speed.
“What kind of a game have you been up to, Limpy?” he demanded, waving the newspaper meanwhile.
Seth looked at the speaker in astonishment, but without making any reply.
“Anything gone wrong?” Tim asked, gazing inquiringly from one to the other.
“I don’t know what he means,” Seth replied, and Pip shouted wildly:
“Listen to him! You’d think butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, an’ yet he’s been ridin’ a mighty high hoss, ’cordin’ to all I can find out!”