“Da Signorina she out, so me come tell-a you piece-a-da-noos—­”

“Why, if it ain’t that blessed guinney!  Go away—­what d’ye want?”

Hereupon Tony flashed his white teeth, and opening the door, bowed with his inimitable grace, grew solemn, tapped his nose, winked knowingly, and laid finger to lip.

“My land!” said Mrs. Trapes, staring.  “What’s the matter with the Eyetalian iji’t now?”

“Spike—­he go make-a-da-fight!” whispered Tony hoarsely.

“Eh—­Arthur fightin’—­where?”

“He go make-a-da-box—­he drink-a-da-booze, den he walk-a—­so!  Den da Signorina she-a-cry—­”

“Oh!” exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, “you mean as that b’y’s off boxin’ again?”

“Si, si—­he go make-a-da-box-fight.”

“Is he over at O’Rourke’s, Tony?” enquired Ravenslee, sitting upright.

“I bet-a-my-life, yes—­”

“Oh, Mr. Geoffrey!” exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, clasping bony hands.  “If they bring him home drunk like they did last time!”

“They shan’t do that, Mrs. Trapes.  Don’t worry, I’ll go and fetch him,” said Ravenslee, getting to his feet.

“Fetch him?  From O’Rourke’s?  Are ye crazy?  You’d get half-killed like as not.  Oh, they’re a bad, ugly lot down there!”

“I feel rather ugly myself,” said Ravenslee, looking around for the shabby hat; “anyway, I’m going to see.”

“Why, then, if you’re goin’ t’ venture among that lot, you take this with ye, Mr. Geoffrey,” and she thrust the poker into his hand.  “You’ll sure need it—­ah, do now!” But Ravenslee laughed and set it aside.  “You’d better take it, Mr. Geoffrey; fists is fists, but gimme a poker—­every time!  A poker ain’t t’ be sneezed at!  What, goin’—­an’ empty-’anded?  Mr. Geoffrey, I’m surprised at you.  Think of Hermy!”

“That’s just what I am doing.”

“Well, s’posin’ they hurt you!  What’ll Hermy do?”

“You think she’d mind, then, though I’m—­only a peanut man?”

“Even a peanut man’s a feller creatur, ain’t he—­an’ Hermy’s ’eart is very tender an’—­oh, shucks, Mr. Geoffrey, I guess you know she’d jest be crazy if you was hurt bad!”

“Why, then,” said Ravenslee, smiling and taking up the battered hat, “I’ll take great care of myself—­trust me!”

“Then good-by, Mr. Geoffrey, good-by and—­the good Lord go with you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Trapes,” said Ravenslee and followed Tony out upon the stair.  Upon one of the many landings the young Italian paused.

“Me put-a-you wise, Geoff; you savvy where-a to find Spike, now me go back t’ my lil Pietro, yes.  S’ long, pal, ‘n’ good-a luck!”

Ravenslee hastened on down-stairs, returning neighbourly nods and greetings as he went, but staying for none, and so, crossing the court, turned into the avenue.  On the corner he beheld the Spider, hard at work on his eternal chewing gum, cap drawn low and hands in pockets.  Seeing Ravenslee, he nodded and lurched forward.