"Don't stand grinning there, you blamed fool! Let's have some more whiskey. This scrapping makes one thirsty."
Schmalz hesitated. He stood in no little fear of his burly customer. On the other hand, it was dangerous to let him go on drinking. There was no telling what he might do. He looked from Shorty, who was trying to stop his nose-bleed, to the broken glasses on the floor.
"I guess you haf enough alretty yet," he growled.
Armitage struck the table viciously.
"Don't stand chinning there!" he shouted. "Bring some booze on the double quick, or it'll be the worse for you!"
With a helpless shrug of his shoulders, Schmalz went after more liquor. Shorty, partly recovered from the knock-out, staggered painfully to his feet and made for the door, followed by "Dutch" and Bill. When he reached the threshold, the defeated fireman turned and shook his fist at Armitage.
"Yer'll be sorry for this, 'Handsome'!" he shouted. "I'll get even with ye afore the day's out."
Armitage shrugged his shoulders by way of answer, and the three men slouched out. As Shorty passed Schmalz in the outer store, he said to the German in an undertone:
"Look out for him, d'ye hear? He's a bad 'un. He's not to be trusted!"
Jerking his thumb significantly in the direction of the cash-drawer, he whispered: