“Say, boss, you seem to have a purty good wad there; ’spose you hand out a few more of the long green.”
This suggestive remark was made by the scowling scamp who answered to the name of Sam. As if there should be no doubt of his meaning, Bill took it upon himself to add:
“That’s right; you don’t need any money when you’ve got that sky wagon to tote you about. So fork over.”
Harvey’s face flushed, but holding his anger under control, he said to Bill:
“The agreement between us was that if I handed this money to you, my colored friend was to rejoin me and neither he nor I nor the machine be molested.”
“How can the moke jine you when he’s run off?” asked Herb.
“We’ll waive that point, but you are not to injure my machine nor expect any more money from me.”
“Do you mean to say you won’t give it?” demanded Bill truculently.
“I’ll die first; I didn’t know you were a gang of cowards as well as scoundrels.”
“Who’re you calling a coward?” growled Bill, his sunburned face flushing an angrier red.