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“Oh, I see,” returned Skelly, apologetically, “An’ so yeh want to find Ike who’s got the address of the place!”

“That’s it! Have yeh seen him this mornin’?” asked Finn.

“He went uptown to see the man at the printin’ office. He tol’ me all the tickets he had on hand were given out and he needed more. Why don’t yuh trot up and see the man yourself instead of hangin’ ’round waitin’ fer Ike?” ventured Skelly.

“Guess I will—where is it?”

Skelly thereupon dug down into the pockets of a ragged pair of trousers and finally brought to view a dirty scrap of paper. Upon it was scrawled: “Benjamin Talmage, Manager of Blue Bird Camp at Happy Hills, 354 Fourth Avenue, New York.”

“Dat’s up near 23rd Street, yuh know,” Skelly added, as Finn read aloud the address.

“I’ll git a hitch on a truck goin’ up, and try to see the boss right away,” said Finn, his face expressing relief at having some tangible plan to act upon.

Thanks and the verbal expression of gratitude were unknown to the street Arabs of New York, but Skelly knew from Finn’s face that he appreciated the information, and that was all that was required of a friend.