"Larry, be a sport! Let's follow this thing along and find out what it all means." "Oh, I'm willing to drop into town for a little reconnoissance, if you like. Maybe we can pick up something that will help us in our business." "Spoken like a scholar and a gentleman. One minute while I get on my clothes. Oh--by the way! Er--this new--robe of mine doesn't look like a Mother Hubbard, does it?" "In my opinion," said Varney, "two things could not well be more utterly unlike." Peter was back in five minutes, clothed and in his right mind. His falling foot hit the center-line of the gig with a thump, and they shot away toward the town wharf. They bade the boat wait their signal in the shadows a little upstream, and jumped out upon the old and rotting landing. A street ran straight before them, up a steep hill and into the heart of the town, and they took it, guided by a burst of still distant laughter and hoarse shouts. Toiling up the evil sidewalk, they looked about curiously at the town which was to engage their attention for the next day or so. Over everything hung that vague air of dejection and moral decay which is so hard to define and so easy to detect. The street was lit with feeble electric lights which did little more than nullify the moon. Grass grew at its pleasure through the broken brick pavement; and even in that dimness, it was very evident that the White Wing department had been taking a long vacation. Varney's eye took in everything. It occurred to him that this was a most extraordinary place for the family of the exquisite and well-fixed Elbert Carstairs to live. Hard on the heels of that came another thought and he stopped. "What's the matter?" said Peter. "We simply mustn't get mixed up in any doings here, you know. Can't afford it. Whatever is going on, our role must be that of quiet onlookers only. Remember that." "Quiet onlookers it is. Hello! Did you see that?" "What?" "Old duck in a felt hat walking behind us, a good distance off--I'd heard him for some time. He stopped when we stopped, and when I turned then I was just in time to see him go skipping up the side street." "Well, what of it?" "Not a thing. I'm interested in the sights of the town, that's all. Listen to those hoodlums, will you?" In the middle of that block rose a great public building of florid and hideous architecture, absurdly expensive for so small a town, and running fast to seed. On the corner ahead, at the crest of the slope, stood the handsomest and most prosperous-looking building they had yet seen. Its long side was cut by many windows, all brilliantly lit up, and above the lower tier ran the gold-lettered legend: WINES & LIQUORS. THE OTTOMAN. D. RYAN. "When the saloon-keeper is the richest man in town," observed Peter, "look out for trouble."