“That red-headed skunk has euchered me out of a job,” he growled. “I’ll get even with him, by thunder! If I can’t get him one way, I will another.”
“My advice to you, Hibbard, is to sing small,” said Rockwell. “Don’t want to get yourself in the lockup, do you?”
“I don’t care a whoop where I get myself, if I can saw off even with that dub!”
He made another pass at Clancy with his fist, but Rockwell grabbed the doubled arm and pulled the baffled chauffeur off along the walk toward the main street. The two presently turned the corner and were lost to sight.
“Hibbard’s no match for you, Reddy,” said Fortune, “but you look out for him, jest the same. He’s the sort that’ll hit from behind, and strike in the dark. Mind that!”
Clancy laughed lightly.
“Hibbard can’t scare me,” he answered. “He’s sore because he lost his job—and he’s blaming everybody but himself.”
“While you’re watchin’ him, pard,” said Fortune, “keep a weather eye out for old Rocks. He allers has a few tricks up his wide and flowin’ sleeve, and I don’t like the looks o’ things around these diggin’s. That’s honest.”