He had not long to wait, for great black clouds were covering the sky,
and he could no longer see the houses at the end of the alley.
Carefully storing his apple cores in his pocket for future trades, he
picked his way over the tin cans and debris, until he reached the
Junction. Here he hesitated. It was there that he and Skeeter had
tussled for the whip. It was here that the young lady had come to his
rescue, and said she didn't believe he was so very bad. Gee! but she
was a pretty young lady, and her hand was so soft, and her voice--
Chick rammed his hands in his pockets and pulled his cap over his
eyes. This was no way for a cove to be feeling when he had a job to
do! With watchful eyes for passers-by, he slipped through an opening
in the fence, and entered the switch-yard. When he emerged he
staggered under the weight of a crowbar which he vainly tried to hide
under his ragged jacket.
Just at the intersection of Bean Alley and the switch-yard, where the
dusk banked up densely in the corners, he stopped again. He was
watching his chance to get across the wide common, undetected. Twice
he started, and twice he shrank back and flattened himself against the
wall as some one passed.
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