“Well, you certainly handed Bud a whole lot more ’n he’s ever had before, an’ it’s a full house to a pair o’ dooces he ain’t lookin’ for no more from you just yet.  But then, Bud ain’t no pet lamb nor yet a peace conference, an’ it’s four aces to a bum-flush he means t’ get back at ye some way—­an’ get ye good!”

“Oh?” said Ravenslee, yawning.

“And oh some more!” nodded the Spider; “it’s sure comin’ t’ you.  When I got back las’ night, there’s Bud settin’ against th’ wall lookin’ like an exhibit from the morgue, fightin’ for breath t’ cuss you with.  ‘N’ say, you sure had done him up some, which I wasn’t nowise sad or peeved about, no, sir!  Me an’ Bud’s never been what you might call real kittenish an’ playful together.  But it seems you ain’t only soaked an’ throttled him good an’ plenty, but he’s gone an’ let out t’ you about that guy Heine—­an’ consequently you’ve gotter be kept from opening y’r mouth—­see?  Consequently it’s you for a sudden an’ hasty hike.”

“Oh?” said Ravenslee again.

“Twice!” nodded the Spider, “with a F an’ a L thrown in—­that’s what you’ll be, Geoff, if you try t’ buck Bud an’ th’ gang.  So here I’ve shinnied up y’r fire escape to put ye wise an’ lend a hand to make your swift get-away.”

Ravenslee sighed and settled his head more comfortably on his pillow.  “You think I ought to go, Spider?”

“I don’t think—­I know!  Your number’s up, Geoff—­it’s you against th’ field, an’, bo—­they’re some field!”

“You think there’s real danger, then?” enquired Ravenslee, staring up at the fly-blown text with shining eyes.

“As real as—­death, bo!”

“Not so long ago I regarded Death as my best friend—­”

“How much?” demanded the Spider, suspending mastication.

“Nothing, Spider, a mere passing thought.”

“Well, I’m tellin’ ye they’ll get ye sure—­it’ll be th’ water or a forty-four bullet, or a blackjack or a knife—­but you’ll get it one way or another!”

“Sounds cheering!”

“An’ it ain’t over-pleasant t’ be sandbagged.”

“No, Spider.”

“Nor t’ feel a lead pipe wrapped round th’ back o’ y’r bean.”

“No indeed, Spider.”

“Nor yet t’ feel a stiletta diggin’ between y’r shoulders or over y’r collar bone.”

“Worst of all, Spider.”

“Well, you’d best pack y’r little trunk an’ fade away, bo!” Ravenslee sat up suddenly and looked at the Spider with eyes very bright and wide.

“Not for all the gangs that ever ganged!” said he softly.

“Eh?” exclaimed the Spider, staring, “what’s yer game?”

“I’m going to try to buck this gang clean out of existence.”

“You are, eh?”

“I am.”

“Bo,” sighed the Spider, shaking his head, “you ain’t a ordinary fool—­you’re a damned fool!”

“And you’re going to help me, Spider!”

“Not me, bo, not me—­I’m only just an ordinary fool!”