“Wot’s ailin’ you, Robin?” Duck asked. “You been pickin’ at yer supper. You ain’t been payin’ no ’tendon ter wot any o’ us is sayin’. Can’t be yer biz. You got two customers terday. You got two day ’fore that, an’ one day ’fore that. An’ there’s the ten cents you got off’n that gent outside o’ the church. Ain’t bad pickin’s fer one wot’s jist got goin’. Better’n any o’ us done when we begun.”
“It’s not that,” said Robin. “It’s not anything, Duck. Really.”
“Yer lyin’,” said Duck, stuffing another bite of bread into his mouth. “C’mon. Say wot’s up.”
Robin had not wanted to tell them. He had never told them how he felt about that man’s frightening eyes, so why tell them about this? Still, that was all in his imagination. This was something else entirely. This was not only frightening. It was very, very real.
“C’mon, Robin. We’re waitin’,” said Mouse.
“Well,” said Robin, hesitating, “it’s just that today I saw a friend of my step-papa’s. His name is Quill. I met him just before I ran away with Danny.”
“So you seed this Quill,” Duck said. “That don’t mean nothin’. Wot might mean somethin’ is if he seed you.”
“He did see me,” said Robin. “I know he did, because after I left to come home, he was following me.”
At this, all four faces around Robin suddenly froze.
“Did he actual foller you all the way here?” asked Mouse.
“Oh no! No!” cried Robin. “I guessed right away I was being followed, so I turned at the next block and went right on in another direction. I kept on walking and walking. I knew he was behind me, because every time I turned around to look, there he’d be ducking into something. He’s thin as a stick. He can hide just about anywhere.”
“So how did you git’ ’way from ’im?” Spider asked, his eyes ready to pop out of his head.
“I just went on walking,” said Robin. “I think he ended up so tired he gave up, because the last time I turned to look, he was gone. But I kept on walking anyway, just to be sure.”
“We knowed as how you got home later’n all o’ us,” said Duck. “But none o’ us thought ter arsk why.”
“Wot I don’t git,” said Mouse, “is why he never jist nabbed you on yer corner, if nabbin’ was wot he had in mind.”
“Maybe he never had nothin’ in mind,” said Piggy. “Maybe he never ’spected ter see Robin, an’ when he did, he jist wanted to see where Robin landed so some other party could go nab him, some other party like maybe his step-pa.”
“But even if he don’t know where Robin landed,” said Spider, “he’s seed where Robin does shoe shinin’, an’ he c’n tell the other party where. That ain’t so good neither.”
Duck looked around at them, and shrugged. “Seems ter me as how all Robin got ter do is get hisself ’nother corner nowheres near the other one.”
“Too bad, seein’s how he got this one goin’ so good,” said Mouse. “We best help find ’im another spot where that boy with the pig eyes an’ pie-pan face wot Robin telled us ’bout don’t come hornin’ in.”
Going back out into the streets was frightening, but Robin had to agree to what was suggested. After all, he could not stay and hide in the cellar of St. Something the rest of his days.
The next day, as planned, a new corner was found for Robin. But before the day was out, Quill had found it as well. Once more he followed Robin when he picked up his box to leave. Up one street and down another Robin went. And though his heart might have been thumping at a great rate, he walked along slowly, carelessly swinging his box as if he were out for a Sunday stroll in the park. He had no intention of letting Quill know that he knew he was being followed. And though Quill followed him longer and later than the first night, once again he finally gave up.
The following day, yet another corner was found for Robin. And the exact same thing happened. But this time, even though Robin led him on a merry chase, Quill stuck with him for even longer than the previous two times. Would he end up following Robin all night, especially when he must realize that Robin knew he was being followed? But what was he hoping to accomplish by this curious game of cat and mouse? Did he think knowledge of Robin’s whereabouts could help him get something he wanted from Hawker? That would, of course, mean that Hawker was still looking for Robin, and determined to find him. And that was a conclusion that chilled Robin.
He told it to the boys, and they agreed that he was probably right. It would help if they could find out exactly what Quill was up to, and why. That, however, seemed almost impossible.
“Be nice ter be a fly buzzin’ roun’ the table wot yer step-pa sits at with this feller Quill,” Spider said.
“Wot table were that?” asked Duck. “Robin ain’t said nothin’ ’bout no table.”
“Aw, Duck, why’re you allus tweakin’ me?” complained Spider. “I jist meant any ol’ table. Sometime or other they got ter be sittin’ at a table. Ain’t that right?”
“That’s what they were doing when I met Quill,” said Robin. “Spider’s right, Duck.”
“Yeah, I knowed that. Sorry ’bout it, Spider,” said Duck. “But wot was they doin’ at that there table, Robin. Guzzlin’?”
Robin nodded.
“Where were that?” asked Mouse.
“A place called The Whole Hog,” Robin replied.
“Aint’ never knowed o’ that one,” said Mouse. “My own pa allus goes ter The Rat’s Nest.”
Suddenly Duck bit his lip and screwed up his eyes. “Wait a bleedin’ minute. I’m gittin’ a idea here. Spider, I got ter say it come from what you jist said ’bout the fly buzzin’ roun’ the table. Supposin’ it were a boy buzzin’ roun’ that there table ’stead o’ a fly. Or maybe jist hangin’ roun’ nearby.”
“Wot boy you got in mind, Duck?” asked Piggy.
“Any one o’ us,” Duck said. “Robin’s step-pa don’t know any o’ us from spit.”
“We don’t know Robin’s step-pa from spit neither,” said Mouse.
“Robin c’n tell us wot he looks like,” Duck said. “So tell us, Robin.”
“Well,” said Robin, “he’s big and he has a black beard, and a scar across his cheek. It’s from a fight he was in. And he always wears this black jacket.”
“You ain’t able ter do no better’n that?” Duck asked. “Sounds like a hunnert people wot I know. Wot’s ’is name?”
“You mean one o’ us got ter go up an’ arsk ’im?” Spider asked.
At this, Duck just looked at Spider, shook his head, and sighed. “No, Spider. Wot I were thinkin’ is hangin’ roun’ someone wot looks like wot Robin said. You wait long ’nough, someone’s got ter say his name. So wot’s ’is name, Robin?”
“It’s … it’s Hawker Doak.” Just saying his name made Robin’s skin creep.
Mouse’s eyes flew wide open. “Hawker Doak! He’s yer step-pa?”
Robin nodded.
“He’s the one wot comes ’round collectin’ rent where I used ter live with me ma and pa,” said Mouse. “I seed him more times ’n I cares ter count.”
“Do you think as how he seed you?” Duck asked.
“Nah,” said Mouse. “They was hunnerds o’ kids in the buildin’, an’ it ain’t likely he knowed one o’ us. All he were in’erested in were the sight o’ me pa’s hand forkin’ over the money.”
“Then sounds like as how yer the one wot gits chose ter do the buzzin’ roun’ the table at The Whole Hog,” said Duck. “You c’n pertend you was there fer yer pa. Ain’t nobody goin’ ter think nothin’ o’ that.”
“But when is it I got ter go hangin’ ’round?” Mouse asked. “I ain’t in’ erested in hangin’ roun’ mornin’ ’til night. ’Sides, if I’m seed hangin’ roun’ all day, you think there ain’t no one goin’ ter arsk questions? Don’t take all day ter pick up somethin’ fer yer pa.”
Duck took a few moments to think this over. “Well, ain’t much doubt this here Quill’s goin’ ter be follerin’ Robin agin tomorrow. An’ Robin’s goin’ ter lead him ’roun’ again. That right?”
“I believe it is,” said Robin.
“So,” continued Duck, “soon as Robin knows he ain’t bein’ follered no more, he high tails it back here. Mouse is waitin’ fer ’im, an’ he hightails it ter The Whole Hog. This here Quill, bein’ all wore out from follerin’ Robin, more’n likely won’t be goin’ no faster’n a dyin’ rat. So Mouse gits there, sets up his waitin’ place near this here Hawker … and waits.”
Mouse gave a deep sigh. “Sounds as how lots got ter happen ‘fore somethin’ else happens. An’ wot if nothin’ happens like wot you said, Duck?”
“You got a better idea?” asked Duck. “Anybody here got a better idea?”
Nobody did.
“Then that’s how it’s goin’ ter be,” said Duck.
“Mouse,” said Robin, “thank you for doing this. I want to thank all of you. I don’t know what Danny and I would have done if … if … well, I just wish I could get everybody something. When I start making more money, I’d like to get …”
“Git us all ’nother one o’ them big dinners like you got us first night you b’come one o’ us.” Duck grinned. “Nah, I were jist tweakin’ you. You ain’t gittin’ us nothin’. Wot Mouse is doin’ ain’t nothin’ he wouldn’ be doin’ fer any o’ us, nor us fer ’im. We all knows as how you’d be doin’ the same. So no more ’bout gittin’ us anythin’. Did you git that?”
“I got it,” said Robin with a sheepish grin.
Mouse need never have worried, for it all happened just as Duck had laid it out. Quill followed Robin. Robin led him the usual merry chase until he gave out. Robin “hightailed” it back to St. Something. Mouse “hightailed” it to The Whole Hog, and then at last raced back with his report to four anxious, impatient boys.
“Wot took you?” asked Duck, even though Mouse had actually returned in little over an hour. This was confirmed by Robin’s all-important watch, which had been consulted at least once every other minute. Mouse, fortunately, was too out of breath from running to let Duck know what he thought of the question.
“Did … did you see Hawker Doak?” Robin asked hesitantly.
“I seed him,” replied Mouse.
“Quill too?” Robin asked.
Mouse nodded.
“Well, wot did you find out?” asked Duck.
“Was … was I right, I mean what I was thinking about Quill, and that he might not say anything to Hawker about finding me?” asked Robin.
Mouse stared at Robin for a few moments, and then slowly shook his head.
“Maybe I’d best tell you wot happened from the beginnin’, an’ you c’n figger it out,” he said with a shrug. “You were right ’bout one thing. This feller wot were thin’s a stick, like you said, come draggin’ in after I done arrived, and I knowed it were Quill. I’d got me a seat nex’ from where Hawker Doak were sittin’ with a fat man wot I guessed might o’ been this Maggot wot you tol’ us ’bout. There I sits holdin’ this can wot I picked up on the street, lookin’ like I were waitin’ ter git it filled fer me pa, when this Quill comes in and plunks hisself down like a stone nex’ ter Hawker.”
“‘Hawker, I ain’t goin’ ter do that no more,’ he says. His voice aint’ much more’n a whisper an’ got a queer little whistle in it. It gives me the creeps, I’ll tell you. ‘I’m wore ter a bone,’ he says, which are a ’orse laugh, ’cause he ain’t much more’n a bone any-ways.”
“C’mon, Mouse, git on with it,” said Duck. “Yer killin’ us all.”
“So Hawker says,” continued Mouse calmly, “‘You can’t quit on me now, Quill. Wot kind o’ friend are you? Besides, I’m payin’ you handsome, ain’t I?’
“‘He’s doin’ that, all right,’ says this feller Maggot.
“Then this Quill, he jist grumbles roun’ a bit. Then he says, ‘Whyn’t you jist let me pick him up where he’s shinin’ shoes and drag ’im back? I think he’s on ter me, one night he’s goin’ ter lead me plumb inter the nex’ county. Let me jist pick him up. Why not, Hawker?’
“‘I tol’ you why not,’ says Hawker. ‘It ain’t him I want. It’s the brat I want. The boy c’n go drown fer all I care. You keep follerin’ him. One day he’s goin’ ter let down ’is guard an’ lead you ter wot I’m lookin’ fer.’
“‘Nice thing, Hawker,’ says this Quill. ‘You git me all wore out, but you still ain’t tellin’ wot’s this all ’bout.’
“‘That’s right. I ain’t. It’s my business an’ ain’t nobody else’s. An’ now I’m starvin’. I’m goin’ home an’ git me some grub.’
“So Hawker got up an’ went,” concluded Mouse. “I stuck roun’ a while ter listen ter them two, Quill an’ Maggot, goin’ on ’bout wot Hawker were makin’ Quill do. But Maggot kep’ on tellin’ Quill wot good money Hawker were payin’ ’im, an’ if he knowed wot were good fer ’im, he’d shut right on up an’ do wot Hawker wanted. Then they upped an’ lef’. But Robin, I wanted you sh’d hear all I heerd, so you ain’t thinkin’ I were makin’ a mistake when I said as how I b’lieve you was wrong. It ain’t Quill wot’s back o’ all this. It’s yer Hawker Doak!”
“And it’s not me he wants,” said Robin. “It’s not even me and Danny. It’s just Danny, my baby brother.”
“Why?” asked Piggy, with round eyes.
Why? Robin had no answer to the question. All he knew was that it gave him a terrible feeling of dread deep inside him.
Why Danny?