“Don’t talk too loud, see?” he warned Dirk. “We don’t want nobody to guess what we’re after.”
“Well, what are you after anyway?” Dirk asked impatiently. “Who are you, and why are you acting so mysterious about everything?”
“My name’s Blum,” the other whispered hoarsely. “‘Dumb’ Blum, the guys call me, but that’s only a nickname—I’m not so dumb as most people think. Now, listen. You’ve got it in for Brick Ryan, haven’t you?”
“Well, we haven’t got along together so far. But what has that to do with you?”
“You’ll see! And you don’t like Sax McNulty any too well, do you? He bawled you out pretty heavy a little while ago, didn’t he?”
“How did you know?”
“I know lots of things!” the other chuckled. “Some people in this camp are not treatin’ you right, Van! But me and some other guys can see what a swell feller you are, and we’re ready to help you.”
“Help me to do what?”
“Revenge! That’s what! How would you like it if you could get back at everybody that ever does anything to you around here? Brick Ryan, for instance—if somethin’ pretty terrible happened to him, nobody would guess who done it; but you could laugh up your sleeve all the time!”
Dirk looked puzzled. “What are you driving at?”