“Oh, sure! We’ll go through with it. But the sailor doesn’t seem to be on hand.”
“We may locate him yet. These fellows drift from one night haunt to another. We may go back to the first place and pick him up.”
The rain was now falling smartly, but our seekers did not turn back. They kept on with the quest.
“There’s one place down this street I’d like to look into,” murmured Mr. Duncan.
He turned down what was more of an alley than a street. Here and there a dim gas lamp flickered, adding to rather than relieving the blackness. Halfway down there was a blur of brightness, showing where the light streamed from the doors of another pool place.
“We’ll take a look in there,” said the chief.
They made their way down the alley, splashing in puddles, tramping in the mud and getting more and more wet and miserable every moment.
Suddenly, out of the shadow of some ramshackle building, or perhaps from some hole in the ground, there lurched a swaying figure. And the figure was that of a man who raised his cracked voice in what he doubtless intended for a melody and howled, rather than sang:
“Then spend yer money free,
An’ come along o’ me,
An’ I’ll show yer where th’ elephant is hidin’!”
The chief caught Bob by the arm, halting him.