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"Say," said Spike, his face radiant, "I've just been waitin' an'
waitin' for a chance like this--a chance t' show you an' th' bunch I can
handle myself, an' now"--he stopped all at once, and shaking his head
gloomily, turned away. "I forgot, I--I can't, Bud."
"Aw, what's bitin' ye?"
"I can't come t'night."
"Won't come, ye mean!"
"Can't, Bud."
"Why not?"
"I promised Hermy t' quit fightin'--"
"Is that all? Hermy don't have t' know nothin' about it. This is a swell
chance for ye, Kid, the best you'll ever get, so just skin over t'night
an' don't say nothin' t' nobody."
"I--can't, Bud--that's sure."
"Goin' t' give me d' throw-down, are ye?"
"I don't mean it that ways, Bud, but I can't break my promise t' Hermy--"
"She'd never know."
"She'd find out some ways; she always does, and I can't lie t' her."
"So you won't come, hey? We ain't classy enough for ye these days, hey?
I guess goin' to an office every day is one thing an' crackin' a
millionaire's crib's another."
"Cheese it, Bud, cheese it!" gasped Spike, pale and trembling.


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