"What you waiting for, kid? "the man inquired.
"I'm waiting for Lampert."
"No one of that name here."
He observed in the second clerk an awakening of interest. "Used to be barn boss at Stable Three," the second clerk told the first one, "but the old man fired him. Get out, kid; no use."
Peewee had known he would not find Lampert here. "They said I'd find him here," he insisted craftily.
He sat hopefully a quarter hour more, noting that he was wearing out the patience of the second clerk.
"Where does Ben Lampert live?" the clerk finally asked one of the drivers.
The man did not know. Peewee passed five expectant minutes. A man then put his head in at the door. "You asking where Lampert lives?" he inquired of the clerk. He gave a number on South State Street.
"There was a kid stuck here waiting for him."
Peewee saw over his shoulder the clerk look about for him and fail to find him; he had
