“Dat’s just it,” said Spike. “Dey took it all in and dey swallowed it for gospel truth. Den de two culls looked at each other and I seed dey meant to freeze on it, but was goin’ to freeze me out. Say, Patsy, it was a clean trow down. Dey’s goin’ to play dere own hands on de tip I give dem and freeze us out.” “Are you goin’ to let ’em?” asked Patsy. “Not on yer solid nut,” said Spike. “You stand by and see what de next shuffle of de cards turns up for trumps.” Spike and Bally Morris winked at each other and laughed. “We ought to take Patsy in,” said Bally Morris. “No, no,” said Spike. “Patsy don’t want to be in on dis game. He don’t want to know nothin’ about it, but all de same we’re on de dead level with him. You don’t want to be in dis shuffle, Patsy, but you’ll be in all de same on de scoring.” Patsy understood by this that something was going forward that, in the opinion of the two, it was best for him to know nothing about until it was all over, but that it was in the line of his wishes. Spike drew himself up, and, with a wink and a leer, said: “I’m a little of a fly-cop meself and we ain’t doin’ so bad after all; are we, Bally?” “Not on your life,” said Bally. The two toughs laughed heartily, and Spike added: “I give Lannigan de glad hand and put him on to de boys when he landed here. But he’s trowed me down. Maybe he’ll want to know who trowed him up.” To this Patsy made no remark. He was anxious to get away in order that he might follow the two toughs, for he knew that they had entered into some sort of a scheme in connection with this matter. “Well, Spike,” he said, “if you don’t want to let me in to what you’re up to, all right. I’ve been on the dead level wid you and, anyhow, you ought to be with me.” The tough made the strongest protest in his own language that he had no idea of going back on Patsy, and the young detective slipped away. He did not go far, however, but, concealing himself in a place where he could not be observed, watched to see the two toughs come from the drinking place where he had left them. They came out in a short time and went in the direction of Thirty-fourth Street, turning to the east. Patsy slipped after them and cautiously followed down the block in Thirty-fourth Street to see them meet, on the next corner, a young lad of their own kind, not more than sixteen or seventeen, who told something to Spike which gratified him to such an extent that he grasped Bally Morris’ hand and shook it hard as he capered a clumsy dance on the sidewalk. The two then turned on their heels, walking in the direction whence they had come. Patsy was put at some difficulty to get out of sight in time, and only did so by hiding behind a signboard leaning against a grocery store. The two passed on to Third Avenue, Patsy in fairly close pursuit. Reaching Third Avenue, Bally Morris made an inspection of the drinking saloon on the corner and soon came out shaking his head at Spike.