"Yes."
"Now, get out of here, the whole crowd of you. And you, young fellow," indicating the manager of the canary rival, "if you create any further disturbance in this town, you'll go to the cooler, and stay there. Do you understand?"
The rival manager tried to protest, but the lieutenant started for him.
"I want my money!" he shouted.
"Come and get it. I don't want your money."
"I told you that before," called the storekeeper.
"Go, get your money, and get out of here!" commanded the lieutenant.
Crestfallen and now thoroughly subdued, the manager of the canary car made his way through the crowd; his money was thrust into his hands; then, calling upon his men to follow him, he hurried away.
"There, I guess we won't hear any more from our canary bird friend today," decided Teddy, strutting about and throwing out his chest.
"Not today, perhaps," answered Phil Forrest; "but I am thinking we have not heard the last of him yet. We shall have to look pretty sharply, or he will get the best of us yet. This is a game that one person cannot expect to win at every day. Boys, you may go back to your lithographing now. The police will see that we are protected until we have finished bannering this building."