"'Say no more,' hollers the feller. 'Say no more. Come on with yez.' And he marches down the dark hall to a door with a 'To let' sign on it and fetches it a bang with his fist. It opens a little ways and a face shows in the crack.
"'Hello, Frank!' hails the sunflower, cheerful. 'Will you take that ugly mug of yours out of the gate and lave me friends in?'
"'What's the matter wid you, Mike?' asks the chap at the door.
'Yer can't bring them two yaps in here and you know it. Gwan out of this.'
"He tried to shut the door, but the checkerboard had his foot between it and the jamb. You might as well have tried to shove in the broadside of an ocean liner as to push against that foot.
"'These gents are friends of mine,' says he. 'Frank, I'll do yez the honor of an introduction to Gin'ral Grant and Dan'l O'Connell.
Open that door and compose your face before I'm obliged to break both of 'em.'
"'But I tell you, Mike, I can't,' says the door man, lookin' scared. 'The boss is out, and you know--'
"'WILL you open that door?' roars the big chap. And with that he hove his shoulder against the panels and jammed the door open by main force, all but flattenin' the other feller behind it. 'Walk in, Gin'ral,' he says to Jonadab, and in we went, me wonderin' what was comin' next, and not darin' to guess.
"There was a kind of partitioned off hallway inside, with another door in the partition. We opened that, and there was a good-sized room, filled with men, smokin' and standin' around. A high board fence was acrost one end of the room, and from behind it comes a jinglin' of telephone bells and the sounds of talk. The floor was covered with torn papers, the window blinds was shut, the gas was burnin' blue, and, between it and the smoke, the smells was as various as them in a fish glue factory. On the fence was a couple of blackboards with 'Belmont' and 'Brighton' and suchlike names in chalk wrote on 'em, and beneath that a whole mess in writin' and figures like, 'Red Tail 4--Wt--108--Jock Smith--5--1,' 'Sourcrout 5--Wt--99--Jock Jones--20--5,' and similar rubbish. And the gang--a mighty mixed lot--was scribblin' in little books and watchin' each other as if they was afraid of havin' their pockets picked; though, to look at 'em, you'd have guessed the biggest part had nothin' in their pockets but holes.
"The six-foot checkerboard--who, it turned out, answered to the hail of 'Mike'--seemed to be right at home with the gang. He called most of 'em by their first names and went sasshayin' around, weltin' 'em on the back and tellin' 'em how he'd 'put crimps in the bookies rolls t'other day,' and a lot more stuff that they seemed to understand, but was hog Greek to me and Jonadab. He'd forgot us altogether which was a mercy the way I looked at it, and I steered the Cap'n over into a corner and we come to anchor on a couple of rickety chairs.
"'What--why--what kind of a place IS this, Barzilla?' whispers Jonadab, scared.
"'Sh-h-h!' says I. 'Land knows. Just set quiet and hang on to your watch.'
"'But--but I want to find Kelly,' says he.
"'I'd give somethin' to find a back door,' says I. 'Ain't this a collection of dock rats though! If this is a part of your dream, Jonadab, I wish you'd turn over and wake up. Oh land! here's one murderer headin' this way. Keep your change in your fist and keep the fist shut.'
"A more'n average rusty peep, with a rubber collar on and no necktie, comes slinkin' over to us. He had a smile like a crack in a plate.
"'Say, gents,' he says, 'have you made your bets yet? I've got a dead straight line on the handicap,' says he, 'and I'll put you next for a one spot. It's a sure t'ing at fifteen to three. What do you say?'
"I didn't say nuthin'; but that fool dream was rattlin' round in Jonadab's skull like a bean in a blowgun, and he sees a chance for a shot.
"'See here, mister,' he says. 'Can you tell me where to locate Mr. Kelly?'
"'Who--Pete?' says the feller. 'Oh, he ain't in just now. But about that handicap. I like the looks of youse and I'll let youse in for a dollar. Or, seein' it's you, we'll say a half. Only fifty cents. I wouldn't do better for my own old man,' he says.
"While the Cap'n was tryin' to unravel one end of this gibberish I spoke up prompt.
"'Say,' says I, 'tell me this, will you? Is the Kelly who owns this--this palace, named Jimmie--James, I mean?'
"'Naw,' says he. 'Sure he ain't. It's Pete Kelly, of course--Silver Pete. But what are you givin' us? Are you bettin' on the race, or ain't you?'
"Well, Jonadab understood that. He bristled up like a brindled cat. If there's any one thing the Cap'n is down on, it's gamblin' and such--always exceptin' when he knows he's won already. You've seen that kind, maybe.
"'Young feller,' he says, perkish, 'I want you to know that me and my friend ain't the bettin' kind. What sort of a hole IS this, anyway?'
"The rubber collared critter backed off, lookin' worried. He goes acrost the room, and I see him talkin' to two or three other thieves as tough as himself. And they commenced to stare at us and scowl.
"'Come on,' I whispered to Jonadab. 'Let's get out of this place while we can. There ain't no Jimmie Kelly here, or if there is you don't want to find him.'
"He was as willin' to make tracks as I was, by this time, and we headed for the door in the partition. But Rubber Collar and some of the others got acrost our bows.
"'Cut it out,' says one of 'em. 'You can't get away so easy. Hi, Frank! Frank! Who let these turnip pullers in here, anyhow? Who are they?'
"The chap who was tendin' door comes out of his coop. 'You've got me,' he says. 'They come in with Big Mike, and he was loaded and scrappy and jammed 'em through. Said they was pals of his. Where is he?'
"There was a hunt for Mike, and, when they got his bearin's, there he was keeled over on a bench, breathin' like an escape valve. And an admiral's salute wouldn't have woke him up. The whole crew was round us by this time, some ugly, and the rest laffin' and carryin' on.
"'It's the Barkwurst gang,' says one.
"'It's old Bark himself,' says another. 'Look at them lace curtains.' And he points to Jonadab's whiskers.
