er eating their breakfast in a restaurant, they sauntered through the
streets to see the sights. While they walked aimlessly about the city,
Slippery acted at times so strangely that he called the attention of Joe
to him, who did not suspect the reason of his singular demeanor, nor
that he was walking with a man who in police circles had earned a well
merited reputation of being one of the most desperate criminals in the
land. Whenever Slippery would spot a policeman ahead of him he would
turn into an alley or by-way to avoid passing the guardian of the law.
At other times, just after they had passed some well dressed and often
really benign looking citizen, Slippery would roughly nudge him and
whisper, "that was one of those 'fly mugs'--a detective", and then it
would be some moments before he reverted to his former cheerfulness,
proving to Joe how much he feared or despised those who uphold the law.

The ringing of the church bells had just announced the noon hour, when
Slippery was stopped in the street by a neatly attired gentleman, who,
after they had most cordially shaken hands, entered into a whispered
conversation, which Joe overheard.

"Hello, Slippery, old boy, when did you find your way back to Chicago?"
were the first words of the stranger's greeting, who acted as if he were
greatly pleased with the return of Joe's pal to the "Windy City." "I too
am glad to be once more where one's eyes do not tire looking into
nothingness, bounded only by the horizon and the blue sky," answered
Slippery, and then in a whisper, he added: "Say, Boston Frank, give me a
square tip where Bunko Bill's gang is, so I can find a temporary hangout
until I get straight as to the lay of the land." "Oh, is that what you
wish to know, Slippery? Well they are in a private flat on South Clark,
just below LaSalle Street, second house from the corner, on the fifth
floor, and a dandy place at that, but," here he paused and with an
ill-disguised look of resentment he stared at Joe and then queried:
"Slippery, whose boy have you toting along with you?" And as Slippery
did not promptly answer him he added with contempt in his voice, "I
always understood that only a low-lived plinger dragged a road kid about
with him and never a proper crook." Then to Joe's terror, he heard the
man whom he had until this moment taken to be as honorable as his own
late father answer: "Boston Frank, this lad is the wisest and shrewdest
young crook that ever walked