Chapter 2We were trudging down Fourteenth Street. Despite the fact that I’d had the first nourishing meal in ages, I was freezing, and my teeth chattered so much I was afraid Mr. Chetwood would complain about the noise.
Instead, he suddenly dragged me into a stable.
“Hold on a second, kid.” He whistled through his teeth.
“That you, Mr. C?” A short, skinny man appeared from the rear of the stable.
“It is, Otto.”
“I ain’t got no papers on you tonight.”
“Thank God for that. Among other things, Otto’s a process server, Johnny. Otto, this is John Smith.”
“Hullo, John Smith.”
“How do you do?” I asked distractedly. “We have to get out of here.” I tugged on Mr. Chetwood’s sleeve.
“We’ll be safe here, kid. Otto’s a good friend of mine.” He winked at Otto. “He’s oke for a kraut.”
At one ti
