"We can send him to the chair any time. But what's the use? He knows
things that we got to know before we pass him up."
"But, Bubbles, how can you help?"
"Oh, I'm little. I can get into little places. They wouldn't want me if
I weren't of use."
"But I don't like the idea of your running down Blizzard, Bubbles."
"Why not, Miss Barbara? There's no one in the city that's _needed_ as
much as him."
"Aside from that, Bubbles--I'm willing to grant that--there's a reason
why I think you should have nothing to do with running him down."
"It's got to be an awful good one, Miss Barbara--not just good to you,
and maybe to me, but to men higher up."
"I think it would be good enough for the very highest up, Bubbles. Will
you take my word for it?"
"Yes, Miss Barbara. But _they_ won't take my word for your word."
"No," she said, "of course not."
She considered for a few moments. Then she said: "Bubbles, I'm going to
tell you my reason. I hope I'm not doing wrong. It's a serious thing for
me to tell you and for you to know. There is very little doubt but that
Blizzard is your father."
"Say that again, please," said Bubbles.
"Blizzard is probably your father."
Bubbles took the news very coolly. His eyes sparkled; but he made no
exclamations of surprise or chagrin. Instead he said: "_That_
accounts for it."
"Accounts for what?"
"Oncet he caught me in his house. He said the next time he'd skin me
alive. If I hadn't been his son he'd a skun me that time. Do you get me,
Miss Barbara? He's my father, sure. But--" Now chagrin, wonder, and
perplexity were written in Bubbles's face. "Why," he said, "it makes
everything different. He never done anything for me; but if he's
my father--"
"You can't very well spy on him, can you, Bubbles? You've got to stand
aside and leave all that to others."
"I got to see the Head, Miss Barbara. I got to ask him."
"Who is the head, Bubbles?"
"I'd tell you in a minute, Miss Barbara, only we're all swore to tell no
one. But what he says goes with me. It's got to be that way, else we'd
never get nowhere."