Rockwell, red with rage and muttering to himself, did not pause to hear any more, but dived through the front door of the garage. He looked out again to call to his new employee:
“I’ll expect you to sleep here nights, Clancy. If you go away, get back by eight o’clock.”
“All right, sir,” Clancy answered.
Rockwell disappeared, and Fortune dropped down on the bench and drew Clancy down beside him.
“You locoed, pard?” Fortune demanded.
“I hope not,” was the reply. “Why?”
“What’s Old Rocks payin’ you?”
“Fifty a month.”
“Why didn’t you jump at the judge’s seventy-five?”
“Because I had already agreed to work for Rockwell.”