“Oh, you won’t?” sneered the man.
“No, I won’t,” answered Matt firmly. “My business is just as honest and honorable as yours, even though I may not make such enormous profits,” he added, bound in some way to “get square.”
“See here, are you going to get out, or must I pitch you out?” howled the man more savagely than ever.
For the moment Matt did not reply. He was 86 very angry, but knew it would do him more harm than good to lose his temper. Yet he was not the person to allow the insults he had received to pass unnoticed.
“I will get out just as soon as you restore my goods to me,” he said. “You had no right whatever to throw them into the gutter and soil them.”
“What?”
“And let me say, too, that I expect my goods to come back to me just as clean as they were when you took them.”
“You say another word and I’ll stand you on your head!” fumed the proprietor of the restaurant, but the look in Matt’s eyes kept him from laying hands upon the boy.
“If you dare to touch me I’ll call in the police,” replied Matt, more sharply than ever. “I have a license, and by that license the police are bound to protect me. Now, you get my goods back for me and I’ll leave.”
“I’ll see you in Jericho first!”