"Where are you going?"
"I dunno, but—I'm goin' there, right now."
But as the Spider turned away, his hand was caught and gripped, and Ravenslee was smiling; his features looked a bit battered, but his smile was pleasant as ever.
"Forgive my cursed temper, Spider. I owe you my life again and—I ought to be grateful, I suppose. Forgive me, I'm—not quite myself to-night."
"Sure thing!" said the Spider, returning his grasp, "but, bo, I'm kind o' wonderin' in me little mind what Bud's feelin' like! You sure swatted him good an' heavy. I never seen cleaner footwork, an' them left jabs o' yours—"
"The question is, how do you feel, Spider, and what are you going to do?"
The pugilist scratched his rough chin. "Well, that's what gets my goat; I dunno quite, bo. Y' see, I shan't be able t' get no more fights here in the East now, not wi' Bud 'n' his old man against me—y' see, Bud's old man's about the biggest—"
"I wonder if you'd care to come with me?"
"Whaffor?"
"Well, for one thing, I need another chauffeur and—"