“Well—­to my wife, in the first place.”

“Oh, Mr. Geoffrey, you make me tired!”

“Alas, Mrs. Trapes, I frequently grow tired of myself.”

Mrs. Trapes turned away to give her attention to the ham.

“Did ye see that b’y Arthur yesterday?” she enquired presently over her shoulder.

“Yes.”

“How’s he like his noo job?”

“Well, I can’t say that he seems—­er—­fired with a passion for it.”

“Office work, ain’t it?”

“I believe it is.”

“Well, you mark my words, that b’y won’t keep it a week.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Ravenslee, “he seemed quite content.”

“You took him to the theayter las’ night, didn’t you?  Wastin’ your good money, eh?”

“Not very much, Mrs. Trapes,” said her lodger humbly.

Mrs. Trapes sniffed.  “Anyway, it’s a good thing you had him safe out o’ the way, as it happens.”

“Why?”

“Because that loafer M’Ginnis was hanging around for him all the evenin’.  Even had the dratted imperence to come in here an’ ask me where he was.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“Tell him?” she repeated.  “What did I not tell him!” Her voice was gentle, but what words could convey all the quivering ferocity of her elbows!  “Mr. Geoffrey, I told Bud M’Ginnis just exactly what kind o’ a beast Bud M’Ginnis is.  I told Bud M’Ginnis where Bud M’Ginnis come from an’ where Bud M’Ginnis would go to.  I told Bud M’Ginnis the character of his mother an’ father, very plain an’ p’inted.”

“And what did he say?”

“He say!  Mr. Geoffrey, I didn’t give him a chance to utter a single word, of course.  An’ when I’d said all there was to say, I picked up my heaviest flatiron, as happened to be handy, an’ ordered him out; and Mr. Geoffrey, Bud M’Ginnis—­went!”

“Under the circumstances,” said Ravenslee, “I’m not surprised that he did.”

“Ah, but he’ll come back again, Mr. Geoffrey; he’ll find Arthur alone next time, an’ Arthur’ll go along with him, and then—­good night!  The b’y’ll get drunk an’ lose his job like he did last time.”

“Why, then, he mustn’t find Arthur alone.”

“And who’s t’ stop him?”

“I.”

“Mr. Geoffrey, you’re big an’ strong, but M’Ginnis is stronger—­and yet—­” Mrs. Trapes ran a speculative eye over Ravenslee’s lounging form.  “H’m!” said she musingly, “but even if you did happen to lick him, what about th’ gang?”

“Echo, Mrs. Trapes, promptly answers, ’what’?”

“Well, Mr. Geoffrey, I can tell ye there’s been more ’n one poor feller killed around here to my knowing—­yes, sir!”

“But the police?”

“Perlice!” snorted Mrs. Trapes.  “M’Ginnis an’ his father have a big pull with Tammany, an’ Tammany is the perlice.  Anyways, Mr. Geoffrey, don’t you go having no trouble with Bud M’Ginnis; leave him to some one as is as much a brute-beast as he is.”