"One'll do to start," said Gray. "That'll be only a mite to what we'll get later."
"Will he pay up, d'you think?" asked Busby.
"Pay?" said Gray. "He can't help it. Look what he's got to lose if he don't pay; he's had his turn, and now we'll have ours."
Judging by Gray's tone, George felt convinced that he meant all he said. He was not sure now that he had been quite wise in having laughed so much at Gray's expense.
"Suppose he dodges us, and doesn't turn up at the office?"
Gray laughed. "We'll go to his house," he said; "that'll be tit for tat. We'll get a bit of our own back."
George listened to the retreating footsteps, and a fierce indignation sprang up within him. So violent was it that he daren't come out from the shadow of the iron door until it had abated somewhat. Then he cautiously made his way back to his own room, put on his hat, and went home.
Chapter XIX—A shot that missed Fire
