Suddenly the other bent forward, peering keenly into the face of his counterpart and almost shouted:
“Hully chee! It’s a plant. De cull is painted for me. Dat’s right.”
Again the other laughed so heartily that he could not reply, and while he was holding his sides his counterpart cried out:
“Wot’s de game? Give up now. Who’s youse?”
“Patsy Murphy, Bally Morris,” replied Patsy, for it was Patsy. “I didn’t think I’d run up agin’ you so far away from de Bowery. But come along till I get dis make-up off me.”
Somewhat dazed and wholly bewildered, the east-side tough followed obediently the one who had made himself into such a skillful resemblance.
“But I say, Patsy,” he asked, “what was you up to?”
“Nothing that’ll hurt you,” replied Patsy, “but if you’ll play up to de line it may put some dollars into your pocket.”
Patsy found on the corner below a drinking-place and, going into the washroom, quickly removed the make-up that had made him look like Bally Morris.
Then he took Billy into the barroom and told him just what he had done in his disguise.