Through Library street to York they went, with shouts, yells and noises of rattles and other sound-producing instruments.
“Let’s follow and see what happens,” proposed Ricky. “I want to see some other fellow get his as long as I had mine.”
Just then Joe saw several figures come quietly out from behind a building and start up York street, in an opposite direction from that taken by the throng. Under the glare of an electric light he recognized Weston and some of the crowd who had shampooed them. Some sudden whim caused Joe to say:
“There’s the fellows who shampooed us. Let’s follow and maybe we can get back at ’em. There are only five—that’s one apiece.”
“Right you are!” sang out Ricky. “I want to punch someone.”
“Come on then,” signalled Spike. “I’m out for the night. It’s going to be a wild one all right.”
And truly it seemed so.