The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1922-12-10

But de guy dat knows him
ducks his nut-dat's all"
Billy Kane shook his head in
sort of savage perplexity. He had
dismissed White Jack then, picked
up Clarke Mum, Gypsy Joe and
the Cherub, and hal followed them
here. He had come abreast of the
tenement in which they had dis
appeared now, and he. looked
quickly around him. There was
to pay any particular attention to
his movements; and there was no
doorbell to ring, for in that local
ity the fornality of entering a
tenement, where humans hived in
stead of lived, and where at ali
hours the occupants came and
went as matter of course, con-
sisted in pushing the door open
without further ceremony. His
hand slipped into the side pocket
of his coat, and his fingers closed
in a reassuring touch upon his
automatic. For what particular
reason he was to watch Gypsy Joe
and Clarke Mum he was as much
as ever in the dark; but one thing
was clear-there was only one way
to keep in touch with his quarry.
He stepped from the sidewalk,
and, with well-simulated uncon-
Germ, pushed the tenement door
open, entered, closed the door
softly behind him, and stood still,
listening intently. The place was
gloomy and dark, and heavy with
a musty, unsavory odor of garlic
and rank, stale tobacco; but ahead
of him, along what seemed like a
narrow passage thanking the stairs,
a faint glow of light struggled out
into the blackness, as though from
a partially opened door, and from
this direction murmur of mems
voices reached him.
He moved stealthily forward for
a few steps; and then halted alb
ruptly, and pressed back against
the wall. Yes, here were the men
he sought. In so far as locating
them in the tenement was con-
cerned, he was in luck. The hall
way had widened out beyond the
staircase, and from where he now
stood, through a half-opened door,
a door that was in poverty-strick-
en- and disreputable repair, whose
panels, smashed and broken prob
ably in some fracas of former
days, were patched with strips of
cardboard that in turn hanging
by tack or two, gaped blatantly,
he could make out Clarke Munn's
dark, scowling, unshaven features,
as the man sat sprawled out on a
chair in the center of the room;
also, Clarke Mum was swearing
viciously:
'Well, where's Shaky Liz-eh?
Where's Shaky Liz? Who's right
now about comm back here?
Her tongues been hangin' out fer
a drink now fer two weeks, an
she's bust loose. OATS wot she's
done-yes, an probably queered
de whole lay too! I told youse so!
/ told youse youse'd have to show
me about Shaky Liz before I'd go
de limit. See! | amt fer any
juice chair up de river-not yet!
Savvy?"
cav, shut upw The words
were clipped off; the voice was al
most a boyish treble. "Can yer
croakin', Clarke, youse give me a
pain! Youse came back here be-
cause [ said so-Gat's whyi |
had to steer clear of Shaky Liz
while she put de stunt across, an
we got to know now if de girl fell
fer it all right"
Yes" growled Clarke Mum,
IAN Shaky Liz has gone an got
drunk, an, spilled de beans! L
'If she has," purred the other,
and there was something of final
ity made the more horrible by the
boyish tones, "she gets hers-in-
stead of de other, OATS all. An
anyway, youse have no kick COM