“Spike, if you round on me, I’ll spoil your game. I’ll do more; I’ll put you in the jug. You have got no right to throw me down, for I put you next in this game, and I saved your life this afternoon. If you throw me down it’ll be the worst day’s work you ever did for yourself.”
He turned from the table at which the two crooks were sitting, and walked out of the saloon without another word or turning to see the effects of his words.
Patsy was intent on filling up the gap in the story of the day, which was complete and connected except as to the taking of the drawings and the models from Lannigan’s rooms.
That this had been done by Spike Thomas and Bally Morris there was no doubt in the minds of any one having knowledge of the affair. But, after all, it was, at best, suspicion.
Leaving the saloon in which the two young crooks had hidden themselves from Lannigan, Patsy took the elevated railroad train to Forty-second Street.
Leaving the train here, he went immediately to Avenue A, and to the block where he had had his “row,” as he called it.
His intention was, if possible, to find or to account for the disappearance of the two crooks from the house into which he had followed them.
It was his good fortune that, as he passed the door of that house, that he should see in the doorway the girl whose alarm had been the cause of the row in the house.
She recognized him as quickly, and stepped forward to greet him.
“Say,” she said, “was them two fellows that you trotted after this afternoon, when you was chinnin’ with me, the two you followed into our house?”