said: "Well, let's go!" There was a highly nervous tension in the air, what I mean. This large blah which claimed to be Kid Roberts was lookin' the eye-fillin' Eva Littleton over with speculative eyes, Jim Barnaby was plainly double cuckoo over her, Ptomaine was tryin' to promote himself with great unsuccess as usual, whilst Eva was devotin' all her time and attention to the noncommittal Kid. It was certain with that layout that somethin' was goin' to break and, bein' certain, it did!
One day Kid Roberts is out strollin' in the woods around the inn with his pomes and Eva, when Ptomaine busts into my room as excited as a candidate at the ticker on election night. He demands to know where the Kid is, and when I tell him he grabs hold of my arm and insists that we go right after him.
"How come?" I says. "Kid Roberts is safe enough with Eva and if she should get fresh, why, he's a boy which can take care of himself anywheres."
"I ain't worryin' about Eva," says Ptomaine. "Though she sure is a snappy number and I only wish she'd give me a play. It's them football guys which has got me upset. There's goin' to be dirty work at the crossroads, there is for a fact. Them rah-rah boys is framin' to put Kid Roberts over the jumps!"
"Which one of your spies reported that?" I asks, slightly interested. "Or have you been toyin' with that Long Island Scotch again?"
"Listen!" says Ptomaine. "I drop a dime through a crack in the porch and you know I ain't goin' to grin and bear 'at, so I'm down under the boards look-
