"I've got to, Stet," answered Frank. "Have you been looking up that Wacker fellow?"
"I've been doing nothing else," answered Stet, putting on a serious, careworn look. "Say, he's a bad one. Hangs out at the worst places on Railroad Street, and plays cards all the time."
"Throwing away his money, eh?"
"He don't seem to have much. No," said Stet, "I saw him borrow from two or three chums. But he's got great prospects, I heard him say. He's waiting for somebody to come to Pleasantville, or for something to happen. You leave it to me. I'll watch him like a ferret, only you'd better leave word where I can find you, if anything important comes up."
"All right, Stet. My mother will know where I am each day I am gone."
"And say," continued Stet, "I want you to say something to me."
"Say something to you, Stet?" repeated Frank in a puzzled way.
"Uh—huh."
"What?"
"I want you to look at me fierce, and frown, and say that you order me out of your place, and if I show up again you'll break every bone in my body."
