"Well say, how did de game come out? I ain't seen de bulletin-boards."
Jack's heart leaped towards the boy at once; he discovered that there was a bond of sympathy between them after all.
"I don't know," he answered; "I came away before the end. It was four to nothing in our favor then."
"Chamesy Haggerty lives on de tird floor. I'll show ye up." Jack followed his pilot up the dark, smelly stairs, answering questions all the way as to the foot-ball game.
"A-ah, ye can't do notin' widout Jarvis," commented the youngster, upon hearing of the half-back's injury.
"Dat's a nice lookin' purp yer got," he said, eyeing Blathers, as they arrived at the third floor. "Guess he's a good 'un to fight, ain't he? Le 'me take care of him for yer, while you're inside."
Jack did not accept this kind offer. His guide, pointing to a door, said: "Well, dat's Chimmie's. I ain't goin' in, 'cause he's got scarlet fever."
"The devil he has!" exclaimed Jack.
"Yare; leastways dat's what dey all say. Wait till I get down-stairs 'fore yer open de door." And with a vain whistle to Blathers he disappeared down-stairs.
Rattleton knocked at the door indicated as "Chimmie's," and opened it in response to a voice within. The small room was pretty well lighted by a lamp, the first thing that Jack's eye fell on. It was Varnum's student-lamp; Jack knew it at once from a caricature he had himself drawn on the shade. A hard-faced, slovenly old woman was sitting near a stove, and looked at him in surprise as he entered.