“No, yez don’t,” said the woman, stepping from behind the low counter and pushing the door shut. “Yez’ll drink what yez ordered or I’ll call th’ police.” The boys glanced at each other. Jack was thoroughly frightened. Tommy was fighting mad. “Open that door,” he demanded. The woman laughed, a laugh that the boys had never heard before, locked the door and removed the key. Tommy was about to throw himself upon her as she stepped toward the curtains, but Jack caught hold of his arm. “Moik! Moik! I say Moik, wake up. Come ahn, ye brute, git up.” The woman passed behind the curtains and was endeavoring to rouse the sleeping man. The place was quite dark now, with the door shut. The narrow window panes were covered with dust, and only a faint ray struggled through from a street lamp. Tommy tried the door. “Take hold of my shoulder,” said he to Jack, “and pull for your life.” Tommy grasped the knob, put one foot against the door jamb, and the two scared boys threw themselves back with all the strength they had. The screws that held the lock in place must have been eaten with rust, or the wood rotten, for the door gave way and the boys fell backward into the room. As they scrambled to their feet and rushed out, the woman came after them, calling: “Police! police!” but the boys kept on running. They turned a corner and made for the river. Once or twice they thought they heard the heavy boots of a policeman close behind them, but they never looked back. They reached the river just as a ferry-boat was about to pull in the plank, and leaped aboard. When they had gained courage to look back they saw a policeman standing on the wharf looking at the boat. No doubt he was looking at them, and they went forward, their hearts still beating wildly when they stepped ashore on the Illinois side. “Les go home,” said Tommy. “Never. Everybody in St. Louis knows me, and if we’ve been reco’nized they’ll go right to the house to git us. We must not go home to-night.” “Well, les don’t stan’ here where they can see us,” said Tommy, and they strolled down along the water-edge. They climbed up onto an old, abandoned cart and watched the ferry-boats come and go. They watched closely for the caps and buttons of police officers among the passengers that passed out between the two big lamps on the landing. “Like as not they’ll put on citizens’ clothes, or maybe send detectives after us, an’ you can’t tell a detective from anybody else; sometimes they dress up like storekeepers an’ sometimes like tramps.” It was quite dark now, where the boys sat upon the old cart, and presently they saw three men coming up the river, walking slowly and talking low. “Come on,” said Jack, grasping Tommy’s arm, and hurrying down to the very water-edge. They hid under an old, abandoned wooden pier and waited for the men to pass by, for they made no doubt that they were detectives.