nst a window.

"See anything?" says the Boss.

"Room to rent," says I, for it looked like we'd pried open a vacant
flat.

Just then the sash goes up and something shiny glitters in the dark. I
was just lettin' go with one hand to swing for a head when someone lets
loose a Dago remark that was mighty business like and more or less
familiar.

"Is it you?" says I. "If you're the Lady Brigandess own up sudden."

"Ah-h-h!" says she, thankful like, as if she'd seen her horse win by a
nose. Then she puts up the rib tickler and grabs me by the wrist.

"Guess your lady friend's here," I sings out to the Boss.

"Have you got her?" says he.

"No," says I; "she's got me."

But no sooner does she hear him than she lets go of me, shoves her head
out of the window and calls up to him. The Boss says something back and
for the next two minutes they swaps Dago talk to beat the cars.

"How shall I pass her up?" says I.

Just then she made a spring for that rope ladder of ours and overhands
up like a trapeze star. An' me thinkin' we'd need a derrick or a
bo's'n's chair!

It wa'n't no time for reunions at that stage of the game, nor for hard
luck stories, either. None of us was pining to hold any sociables with
the Malabistos. We quit the chowder club on the jump, streaked up the
hill into Mott street, and piled into one of those fuzzy two horse
chariots that they keep hooked up for weddin's and funerals.

"Where to?" says the bone thumper.

"Head her for Buffalo and let loose to beat the Empire State express,"
says I, "but hunt for asphalt."

That fetched us up Second Avenue, but there wasn't any conversin' done
until we'd put fifty blocks behind us. Then I reckon the Boss asked the
Lady Brigandess if she'd missed any meals lately. From the way he gave
orders to steer for a food refinery she must have allowed that she had.

Not having time to be particular, we hit a goulash emporium where they
spell the meat card mostly with cz's. But they gave us a private room
upstairs, which was what we wanted. And it wasn't until we got inside
that we had a full length view of her. Say, I was glad we'd landed so
far east of Broadway. Post me for a welcher if she wasn't rigged out in
the same kind of a chorus costume that she wore when we saw her last,
over there in It'ly! Only it was more so. It was the kind of costume
that'd been all right on a cigarette card, or outside a Luna Park joint,
and it would have let her into the Arion b