“I know I’m not a bit,” said See placidly. “That’s no news. I’ve been told before that I’m not a bit. You run on, now. We’re playing pool.”
The face withdrew. There was a hush in the boisterous mirth without. Then it rose in redoubled volume.
“Come up to the hotel with me,” urged Shaky, moistening his lips. “I got a date with a man there at ten. We can play pool there while I’m waiting.”
“Oh, I’ll stay here, I guess. I want to read the papers.”
“You headstrong little fool,” whispered Akins. “Their hearts is bad—can’t you see? Come along!” Aloud he said: “If you get that ball it makes you pool.”
The door from the barroom opened and two men appeared. One, a heavy man with a bullet head much too small for him, went to the free lunch; the other, a dwarfish creature with a twisted sullen face, walked to the Australian and shook him by the shoulder.
“Come on, Sanders. Say good night to the library. You’re a married man and you don’t want to be in this.” His voice had been contemptuously kind so far; but now he snarled hatred. “Hell will be popping here pretty quick, and some smart Aleck is going to get what’s coming to him. Oh, bring your precious ‘pyper,’ if you want to. Sim won’t mind. Come along—Larriken!”
The big man followed obediently.
“Part of that is good,” observed Shaky Akins. “The part where he said good night. I’m saying it.”