, and crossed to the sink to empty
his pipe.

Again Cis fell to sobbing, and talking as she wept. "I'm going to see
that Father Pat knows about this," she threatened. "And everybody in the
whole neighborhood, too! They'll drive you out of this part of town--you
see if they don't! And, oh, wait till One-Eye knows, and Mr. Perkins!"

It was just then, as she paused for breath, that something happened
which was unexpected, unforeseen, and terrible in its results. The
longshoreman, to empty his pipe, rapped once on that pipe leading down
into the sink from Mrs. Kukor's flat--then twice more--then once again.

It was the book signal!

Johnnie gasped. And Cis stopped crying, turning on him a look that was
full of frightened inquiry. He tipped back his head, to stare at the
ceiling as if striving to see through it, and he held his breath,
listening. During the quarrel, he had not thought of Mrs. Kukor, nor
heard any sound from above. Was she at home? Oh, he hoped she was not!
or that she had not heard!

But she was at home, and was preparing to obey the raps. Her rocking
steps could be heard, crossing the floor.

"Johnnie!" warned Cis. She forgot herself now, in remembering what might
be threatening.

They heard the scrape of the book basket as it left the upper sill.
Johnnie got to his feet then, watching Barber, who was leaning over the
sink, cleaning out the bowl of the pipe with the half of a match. Oh, if
only the longshoreman would leave the window now, before--before----

Almost gayly, and as jerkily as always, the basket with its precious
load came dropping by quick inches into full view, where it swung from
side to side, waiting to be drawn in. And as it swung, Big Tom caught
the movement of it, faced round, and stood staring, seeing the books,
but not comprehending just yet how they came to be outside his window,
or for whom they were intended. And Johnnie, his face distorted by an
agony of anxiety, kept his eyes on Barber.

"Ha-a-a-a!" Cis broke in, scornfully. "He's been asking old Grandpa
questions, Johnnie! He's been spying on you, too! He ought to make a
fine detective! All he does is spy!"

It was this which told Barber that the books belonged in his flat, and
to Johnnie. "So-o-o-o!" he roared triumphantly, and grabbed the four
strings. But now his anger was toward Mrs. Kukor.

His jerk at the basket had told her something: that all was not right
down below. And the next moment she was pulling hard