Why, yes, sir, Mr. Leffingwell.
I thought I was talking to some fresh guy on the phone. Excuse
me, Sir! Yes, sir! I have news for you. I'm here at the Park
Hospital with a fare what got stabbed. No, sir, it's not a boy.
He's a little thin man. I know where the boys is, and they want
help. Yes, Sir! My car is right here, but I'm been' detained.
Yes, sir, they won't let me go 'til the young feller gets better
or croaks."
The detective cut in. "Does he want you to come there?"
"He sure does that!" said Jim.
The detective took the receiver. He told Mr. Leffingwell the
circumstances.
He listened attentively. Then "Yes, sir," he said. "I will come
right over with him."
CHAPTER X
BY WAY OF THE HOUSE NEXT DOOR
The boys will never know how long it took to drive to the street
and number given them by the poor Weasel. Arriving at the corner
where the old brown stone house stood looking the picture of
desolation, with its closely boarded-up windows, its dusty steps
and seedy doors, the boys passed down the side street and left
the car in the shadow of the buildings there. They separated and
hurried back to the house, one at a time. Slipping through the
dense shadows in the weedy, cluttered-up back yard, a yard that
had once been a trim garden with smooth paths and neat little
hedges, as back yards were once in the olden days, they met under
the iron fire-escape attached to the house next door.
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