"Leg it,
bo--leg it good, or here's where we snuff it sure! This way--round th'
corner; only keep goin', bo, keep goin'."
Very fleetly they ran with their pursuers close on their heels, across
open lots, over fences, along tortuous alleys, until the rush and patter
of the many feet died away, and the Spider, pulling up at the corner of
a dismal, narrow street hard by the river, stood awhile to listen.
"Jiminy Christmas! but you're some hot stuff at the swattin'
business--you're a glutton, you are, bo. I been in one or two scraps
meself, but I never seen a guy so hungry for--"
"Where are we?"
"Thirteenth an' Twentieth."
"Are we safe?"
"F' th' time, I reckon. But all Hell's Kitchen'll be out after us
t'night, sure. So I guess it's us for th' immediate hike--"
"Us? Will they be after you, too?"
"Well," said the Spider, smiling down grimly at his damaged, knuckles,
"I guess yes! Hell's Kitchen an' Tenth Av'ner's got t' get along without
me from now on, I reckon. They ain't losin' much, an' I ain't leavin'
much, but--"
"Why the devil had you got to follow me to-night?" demanded Ravenslee,
scowling.
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