It proved to be such a one-sided affair that Cyclone felt ashamed to keep doing all the hitting and presently lifting the almost senseless wretch he actually tossed him into the car with a crash.
This seemed to give Jack’s opponent a flash of commonsense for he burst out of the encircling arms and dove after his pal, Jack having no desire to follow after and try to drag him out again, since as a rule he was far from being a hog for punishment.
The man lost not a second in starting his machine which went off down the dimly lighted street like a crazy thing, zigzagging from curb to curb, just as Jack remembered seeing shown in comics on the screen.
There was disconsolate Perk, looking as provoked as any one could be, shaking his head, and punching one fist into the other palm.
“Such rotten luck!” he was moaning as he strode around the late battlefield. “Every feller had his hand in but poor me; what’ve I done to be cheated out o’ my share like I was a baby? Why, oh! why wasn’t there three bums in the bunch, just enough to go around; dang ’em, why did they want to crab my game like that?”
Jack who could keep from bursting into a loud laugh only through severe measures along the line of repression, managed to soothe the unhappy Perk by judicious words of sympathy.
“If only I’d known you wanted a little exercise so much partner,” he observed without the flicker of a smile, “why, I’d have tossed him over to you with pleasure. Then Cyclone here should have slipped you his bird while he was jumping him around at such a great rate. However, it’s past now, and the damage can’t be mended. Next opening that comes along, brother, I solemnly promise to let you try your hand so it won’t get out of practice.”
“That’s a bargain, Jack old hoss,” Perk hastened to say as if anxious to make it a compact between them, “an’ I won’t say what’ll be on the cards when I try an’ make up for all the times I’ve been cheated o’ my share o’ the gate receipts. Now, what next I wonder?”
“We’ll just trot along home and see if there are any hurts needing attention,” replied Jack. “That one I tackled could squeeze like a bear but my being able with a hand free to swat him several times in the jowl, made him ease up more or less until in the end he weakened and went skidoo. Come along fellows, let’s be hiking into the next street where we put up and get our sleep.”
Everybody seemed quite willing to call it the close of a perfect day and let things go at that—the holdup men had long since vanished from view; there was more or less danger of a prowling cop having heard that sound of firing and after summoning help, might be on the way to learn the cause. Not wishing to be mixed up in anything that might hold them in Cheyenne for days awaiting a police court trial, Jack had plenty of good reasons for wanting to depart while the going was good. So they trotted along, arm in arm.