Aunt Julie comes paddin' out. "Did I hear some one say
Clifford?" says she.

"You did," says Mr. Robert. "There he is, the one with the ear muffs. I
haven't found out who the others are yet."

"Phe-e-e-ew!" says she, takin' one sniff, and with that she grabs out
her scent bottle and runs back, slammin' the door behind her.

"Cliffy," says I, "you don't seem to be makin' much of a hit with your
Ellis Island bunch."

"What I want to know," says Mr. Robert, "is what this is all about!"

But Clifford didn't have the key. All he knew was that when he started
to leave the subway train they had tagged after, and that since then he
hadn't been able to shake 'em. Once he'd jumped on a Broadway car; but
they'd all piled in too, and the conductor had made him shell out a
nickel for every last one. Another time he'd dodged through one of them
revolvin' doors into a hotel, and four of 'em had got wedged in so tight
it took half a dozen porters to get 'em out; but the house detective had
spotted Clifford for the head of the procession and held him by the
collar until he could chuck him out to join his friends.

"It was simply awful!" says he, throwin' up his hands.

And then I notices the rattan cane. After that it was all clear.
"Where'd you cop the stick, Cliffy?" says I.

"Stick!" says he. "Why, bless me! I must have taken this instead of my
umbrella. It belongs to that gentleman who sat next to me in the subway
train. You see he was leaning back taking a nap in the corner, and I was
trying to talk to him, and when I left I suppose I took his cane by
mistake."

"Well," says I, "the Zinskis goes with the cane."

It's a fact, too. Most all them immigrant runners carries rattans when
they're herdin' gangs of imported pick artists around to the railroad
stations. It's kind of a badge and helps the bunch to keep track of
their leader. Most likely them Zinskis had had their eyes glued to that
cane for hours, knowin' that it was leadin' 'em to a job somewheres, and
they wa'n't goin' to let it get away.

"Gimme it," says I; "I'll show you how it works."

Sure enough, soon's I took it and started for the door the whole push
quits eatin' cheese and bread out of their pockets and falls in right
after me.

"Fine!" says Mr. Robert, grabbin' my hat and chuckin' it after me. "Go
on, Torchy! Keep going!"

"Ah, say!" says I. "I ain't subbin' for Cliffy. This is his gang."

But Mr. Robert only grins and motions me to be on my way