At mention of the Irishman's name the fellow showed some agitation. Then, seeing that he was about to lose the expected aid, he uttered a savage expression and exclaimed:
"I don't believe a word you say."
"It is no concern of ours whether you believe it or not," replied Roswell, as he and Frank started down the street toward their hotel. The fellow was amazed at the defiance of the lads, and stood staring at them and muttering angrily to himself. Could he have carried out his promptings, he would have robbed both, but was restrained by several reasons.
In the first place, Juneau, despite the influx of miners, is a law-abiding city, and the man's arrest and punishment would have followed speedily. Moreover, it would not have been an altogether "sure thing" for him to attack the youths. They were exceptionally tall, active and strong, and would have given him trouble without appeal to the firearms which they carried.
They looked round and smiled, but he did not follow them. When they reached the hotel they related the incident.
"Would ye oblige me with a description of the spalpeen?" said Tim McCabe, after they had finished. Roswell did as requested.
"Be the powers, it's him!" exclaimed Tim. "I 'spected it when ye told the yarn which I've heerd he has been telling round town."
"Whom do you mean?" asked Frank.
"Hardman, Ike Hardman himsilf."
"Who is he?"