reason of the unwonted graciousness of Mrs. Trapes,
of Ravenslee's tact and easy assurance, and the Old Un's impish
hilarity, all diffidence and restraint were banished, and good
fellowship reigned supreme, though the Spider was interrupted in the
midst of a story by the Old Un suddenly exclaiming:

"Keep your hand out o' the jam, Joe!"

And Joe was later rendered speechless, hard-breathing, and indignant, by
the Old Un turning to Mrs. Trapes with the shrill warning:

"Ma'am, Joe's 'ad two 'elpin's o' cake an' got 'is 'orrid eye on what
remains!"

Nevertheless, the meal was in all ways a success, and Ravenslee was
reaching for his pipe when Mrs. Trapes, summoned to the front door by a
feverish knocking, presently came back followed by Tony, whose bright
eyes looked wider than usual as he saluted the company.

"Hey, Geoff, me tell-a you piece-a da-noos!" he cried excitedly, "big-a
piece-a da-noos. Da cops go-a pinch-a Bud-a M'Ginn'!"

"Bud? Bud?" stammered the Spider. "Have they pinched Bud? Is this the
straight goods, Tony?"

"Sure--they gott-a heem this-a morn in Jersey City--'n' say, he think-a
eet a frame-up--he theenk-a Geoff set-a de cops for-a take heem."

"The hell he does!" exclaimed the Spider, starting to his feet.

"So he send-a da word to Soapy," continued Tony, his eyes rolling, "an'
now all-a da gang's out layin' for-a Geoff. So when Geoff go-a out on
da street--bingo! Dey snuff hees light out--"

"Not much they won't!" said the Spider, buttoning up his coat and
turning to the door. "I'll mighty soon fix this, I guess."

"Do you think you can, Spider?" enquired Ravenslee. "If you're going to
have any trouble, don't bother about--"

"Bo," said the Spider, squaring his big jaw, "get onto this: here's
where I chip in with ye; from now on we're in this game together, an'
I ain't a guy as'll lay down his hand till I'm called--an' called good,
see? You said it was goin' t' be a man's work--by Jiminy Christmas, it
looks like you're right; anyway, I stand in with you, that's sure--put
it there, bo!"

"But," said Ravenslee, as their hands gripped, "I don't want you to take
any chances on my account, or run any--"

"Fudge, bo, fudge! I ain't takin' no chances--"

"Well, I'm coming along to see you don't!" said Ravenslee, reaching for
his hat.

"Not on your life, bo; you'd queer th' whole show. Y' see, they're a
tough crowd an' apt t' act a bit hasty now an' then; 'sides, they might
think you're