Trading Jeff and his Dog Part 7

"What'd you say, Jeff?" Ike called.

"Comfortable home," Jeff answered gaily.

"Counted the c.o.c.kroaches in your private suite?"

"Not yet."

"We got forty-seven," Ike said proudly. "One nigh as big as that dog of yours. What you got in your pack?"

"Candles?" Jeff suggested.

"Law! If Bucky and me had any money, we'd buy some."

Jeff took three candles, which he bought for a penny and sold for three cents each, from his pocket. He handed two of them and a half dozen matches around the end of his cell.

"A gift from Tarrant Enterprises, Ltd."

"Thanks, Tarrant what-you-call-it. We'll pay you soon's we've found us a fortune."

"I'll count on it," Jeff said.

He lighted the third candle, dripped wax from it onto the iron stand, and set it upright in its own drippings. By its flickering light, he examined the cell more closely. It was what he had expected. The floor was dirty, the mattresses only a little less so, and c.o.c.kroaches scurried for cracks.

Jeff let his hand brush Pal's head again. Completely trusting, the dog wagged his tail and shoved his nose against his master's thigh. Dragging the mattress from the top bunk, Jeff laid it on the floor. Conceivably, even a dog would protest against sleeping up there.

Hunger reminded Jeff that neither he nor Pal had eaten anything since last night, and again he took refuge in the happy thought that first things must be first. He edged up to the bars and said softly,

"Ike."

"Yeah?"

"Where's the food come from around here?"

"The garbage can," Ike answered sadly. "Anyhow, that's what I think."

"Can we get any other?"

"If you got money, you can ask Pop."

"Nothing like trying." Jeff raised his voice, "Hey, Pop!"

"What do you want?"

"How about something to eat?"

"It's not lunch time."

"How about some anyhow?"

"Got any money?"

Jeff replied mournfully, "A few pennies that I've been saving for my old age. I can pay for it."

Pop came to the cell. "What you want?"

"Three loaves of bread and three half pounds of cheese."

"Let's have the money."

"_Uh-uh._ Bring it first."

"Show me the money."

Jeff held up two crumpled dollar bills. Pop walked to the entrance and there came the click of his key turning in the lock. Breathless silence reigned; this was a momentous occasion that must be properly observed.

Ten minutes later the key clicked again and Pop came in with parcels.

"Three loaves of bread," he read from a slip, "eighteen cents. A pound and a half of cheese, thirty cents. And," he looked maliciously at Jeff, "four pounds of the best ground steak for the dog, one dollar."

Jeff grinned; his own words had backfired on him. He had intended to give Pal a loaf of bread and a half pound of cheese, to offer the same to those in the next cell, and to keep as much for himself. But he did not lose his aplomb.

"Exactly!" he exclaimed. "Just what I wanted! But I wouldn't think of paying in money when I can offer something of great value! Now--"

"Give me the money," Pop growled. "A dollar and forty-eight cents."

"Oh, well, if you must be cra.s.s--" Jeff gave him a dollar bill and forty-eight cents in change. "Give my pals in the next cell a loaf of bread and a pound of cheese."

"Thanks!" Ike said feelingly, and even the silent Bucky mumbled his grat.i.tude. Jeff laid his pack on the lower bunk, put his food on the pack, and made two sandwiches with a half pound of raw ground steak between each. He spread a paper, scooped two pounds of steak upon it, and gave it to Pal. The rest of the steak he pa.s.sed into the next cell.

"This," Ike exclaimed, "is as good as a hotel! Best grub I ever threw a lip over! Jeff, if ever you want a helping hand, you can count on me and Bucky!"

"I'll remember," Jeff promised.

He ate his two sandwiches while Pal licked thoroughly the paper in which the steak had been wrapped. Then he looked up appealingly and Jeff threw him a quarter loaf of bread. The rest of the food he put in his pack. He heard Ike's whispered,

"Jeff."

Jeff went to the front of the cell. "Yes?"

"You want to get out of here, I'll make like I'm sick. When that old fool comes in, Bucky and me will grab him and get his keys. We'll give 'em to you and you can beat it."

"What about you?"

"Ha!" Ike scoffed. "They can't do much more to us than they're already going to do!"

"Thanks just the same, but we'd better not."

"You like this hole?"