any chances on my account, or run any--"

"Fudge, bo, fudge! I ain't takin' no chances--"

"Well, I'm coming along to see you don't!" said Ravenslee, reaching for
his hat.

"Not on your life, bo; you'd queer th' whole show. Y' see, they're a
tough crowd an' apt t' act a bit hasty now an' then; 'sides, they might
think you're heeled, and they know I don't never carry a gun--they all
know me--"

"Still, I'm coming, Spider--"

"Y' can't, bo; Mrs. Trapes ain't goin' t' let ye--look at her!"

"You never spoke a truer word since you drawed the vital air, Spider
Connolly!" nodded Mrs. Trapes, hands on hips and elbows at the "engage."
"If Mr. Geoffrey stirs out this day, he's jest gotter trample over my
mangled remains, that's all!"

Heeding the glitter in her eye and noting the inexorable jut of her
elbows, Ravenslee sat down and went on filling his pipe.

"Y' see, bo, I know as it wasn't you as give Bud away, an' the boys'll
listen t' my say-so--you bet they will. So here's where I ooze away. S'
long, all!"

The Old Un, having bolted the last handful of cake, got upon his legs
and clutched the Spider's coat in talon-like fingers.