“Average ‘em up at a quarter apiece,” prompted MacDonald in a whisper. “That makes four dollars.”
“Iss four dollars—yess,” went on Dutchy. “Veil, I vant dot. Dere iss der crews dot in-came und out-vent und didn’d eat ven der door vas closed. Dot iss two dollars—yess? Veil, I vant dot.”
The men came to, and a roar of derision rent the air, in the face of which even Dutchy was a little shaken.
“Stand pat,” encouraged MacDonald. “You’ve got them coming and going.”
Dutchy held up his hand for silence. “Dere iss der sixteen over again yet dot dinnered didn’d. Dot iss four dollars—yess? Veil, I vant dot. Dot iss four und two and four. Dot iss ten dollars—don’d it? Veil, I vant dot, und den you come in—yess, one py one—for a quarter py each.”
Then, amid the storm of abuse and jeers that greeted Dutchy’s ultimatum, MacDonald, with a final injunction to the proprietor to stand by his guns, turned and joined Thornley and the men.
“Veil, py golly!” screamed Dutchy above the din. “Vat iss it? Who was der commencer of dot joke dot iss ten dollars to pay? It iss dot Thornley!”
“Why, you wretched old thief,” yelled Thornley, “Do you think we’re going to pay you for grub we didn’t get, because you wouldn’t let us have it, and then pay you for it again when you do dole it out? We’ll see you further, first.”
“It vas agreed in front of der—hang dot word!—py der—”
“Agreed nothing!” snorted Thornley.