“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.

“‘This one’s Jacobs in disguise,’ sings out somebody else.  ’You can tell him by the Rube get-up.  Haw! haw!’

“’Soak ’em!  Do ’em up!  Don’t let ’em out!’ hollers a ha’f dozen more.

“Jonadab was game; I’ll say that for him.  And I hadn’t been second mate in my time for nothin’.

“‘Take your hands off me!’ yells the Cap’n.  ’I come in here to find a man I’m lookin’ for, James Kelly it was, and—­You would, would you!  Stand by, Barzilla!’

“I stood by.  Rubber Collar got one from me that made him remember home and mother, I’ll bet.  Anyhow, my knuckles ached for two days afterwards.  And Jonadab was just as busy.  But I cal’late we’d have been ready for the oven in another five minutes if the door hadn’t bu’st open with a bang, and a loud dressed chap, with the sweat pourin’ down his face, come tearin’ in.