"And you're going to help me, Spider!"
"Not me, bo, not me—I'm only just an ordinary fool!"
"Well, we'll let it go at that!" said Ravenslee, and lying back, he yawned again.
"Don't do that, bo, don't do that!" exclaimed the Spider. "I'm thinkin' what you'll look like after you've been floatin' around in th' river—a week, say! You'd best get out o' Hell's Kitchen, bo—don't stop to ask where to, but—go there."
"My Spider," said Ravenslee, shaking his head, "in Hell's Kitchen I should have to leave all that makes life worth while, so—I shall stay, of course, and chance the—er—river and things."
"Well, I guess it's your trouble, not mine."
"But I want it to be yours too, Spider. You see, I'm counting on you to help me smash this gang."
"Bo, it looks like you're goin' t' do a hell of a lot o' countin'—an' then some more, before you count me in on this fool game. Say"—he paused to stare at Ravenslee, keen-eyed and with jaws clamped rigid—"you ain't a fly-cop—one o' these sleuthy gum-shoe men, are ye?"
"No."
"Well, you ain't one o' these fool amateur guys doin' the dare-devil detective act like you read about in th' magazines, are ye?"