“You haven’t got the whack, an’ I’m ready to bet that we’ll get t’rown down yet.”
“Go wan,” said the other, incredulously.
Patsy cautiously climbed upon the bench and peeped over the division.
Two men in the dress of the hired attendants stood with their backs to him.
As he looked, trying to fix upon some peculiarity by which he could recognize them when in a position to see their faces, a man, who was in his manner and dress of some consequence, approached.
He eyed the two keenly, and the two straightened up as if they expected recognition from the person.
Apparently this person was about to pass by, but he suddenly halted, turned from his path, and went quickly to the bench near where the two were standing, pretending to be much interested in the dogs there.
All of this was seen by the keen-eyed Patsy, and he also saw that as this consequential-appearing person reached the bench, he slipped something deftly into the hands of the two standing ready to receive it.
Not a word was spoken between the three. The passage made, the consequential-appearing man turned from the bench and sauntered on.
Dropping from his perch and keeping his eye on this person, Patsy followed him down, keeping in his own aisle.