“If y’ know what’s good fer y’, y’ll git out!” said Nolan, savagely, clenching his fists. “When’ll y’ quit?”
“As soon as Mr. Welsh discharges me,” answered Allan, still more quietly.
Nolan glared at him for a moment, seemingly unable to speak.
“D’ y’ mean t’ say y’ won’t git out when I tells you to? I’ll show y’!” And he struck suddenly and viciously at the boy’s face.
But Allan had been expecting the onslaught, and sprang quickly to one side. Before Nolan could recover himself, he had ducked under one of the freight-cars and come up on the other side. Nolan ran around the end of the car, but the boy was well out of reach.
“I’ll ketch y’!” he cried after him, shaking his fists. “An’ when I do ketch y’—”
He stopped abruptly and dived back among the cars, for he had caught sight of Jack Welsh coming across the yards. Allan saw him, too, and waited for him.
“Wasn’t that Dan Nolan?” he asked, as he came up.
“Yes, it was Nolan,” answered Allan.
“Was he threatenin’ you?”