"
"You mean my old hat?"
"That's what I'm tryin' t' tell you--an' say, that sure is the hardest
bean cover I ever spotted; made of iron, is it? Where'd you find it?"
"At some dim and distant day it originated in England, I believe."
"Well, that lid would turn a poleaxe, sure; that's why I brought it
back--it's out on the fire escape now."
"Very kind of you, Spider, but--"
"Bo, you're goin' t' need that hat an' a soot o' tin underwear from now
on unless--well, unless you pack y'r trunk an' clear out o' Hell's
Kitchen on th' jump."
"Why so?"
"Well, you certainly handed Bud a whole lot more 'n he's ever had
before, an' it's a full house to a pair o' dooces he ain't lookin' for
no more from you just yet. But then, Bud ain't no pet lamb nor yet a
peace conference, an' it's four aces to a bum-flush he means t' get back
at ye some way--an' get ye good!"
"Oh?" said Ravenslee, yawning.
"And oh some more!" nodded the Spider; "it's sure comin' t' you. When I
got back las' night, there's Bud settin' against th' wall lookin' like
an exhibit from the morgue, fightin' for breath t' cuss you with.
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