"Don't do that, bo, don't do that!" exclaimed the Spider. "I'm thinkin'
what you'll look like after you've been floatin' around in th' river--a
week, say! You'd best get out o' Hell's Kitchen, bo--don't stop to ask
where to, but--go there."
"My Spider," said Ravenslee, shaking his head, "in Hell's Kitchen I
should have to leave all that makes life worth while, so--I shall stay,
of course, and chance the--er--river and things."
"Well, I guess it's your trouble, not mine."
"But I want it to be yours too, Spider. You see, I'm counting on you to
help me smash this gang."
"Bo, it looks like you're goin' t' do a hell of a lot o' countin'--an'
then some more, before you count me in on this fool game. Say"--he
paused to stare at Ravenslee, keen-eyed and with jaws clamped
rigid--"you ain't a fly-cop--one o' these sleuthy gum-shoe men, are ye?"
"No."
"Well, you ain't one o' these fool amateur guys doin' the dare-devil
detective act like you read about in th' magazines, are ye?"
"No more than you are one of these dirty gang loafers you hear about
around O'Rourke's--and that's why you're going to help me root 'em out.
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