McTeague began filling his big porcelain pipe. He lit it, blew a great cloud of smoke into the room, and settled himself comfortably in his chair. The smoke of his cheap tobacco drifted into the faces of the group at the adjoining table, and Marcus strangled and coughed. Instantly his eyes flamed.
“Say, for God's sake,” he vociferated, “choke off on that pipe! If you've got to smoke rope like that, smoke it in a crowd of muckers; don't come here amongst gentlemen.”
“Shut up, Schouler!” observed Heise in a low voice.
McTeague was stunned by the suddenness of the attack. He took his pipe from his mouth, and stared blankly at Marcus; his lips moved, but he said no word. Marcus turned his back on him, and the dentist resumed his pipe.
But Marcus was far from being appeased. McTeague could not hear the talk that followed between him and the harnessmaker, but it seemed to him that Marcus was telling Heise of some injury, some grievance, and that the latter was trying to pacify him. All at once their talk grew louder. Heise laid a retaining hand upon his companion's coat sleeve, but Marcus swung himself around in his chair, and, fixing his eyes on McTeague, cried as if in answer to some protestation on the part of Heise:
“All I know is that I've been soldiered out of five thousand dollars.”
McTeague gaped at him, bewildered. He removed his pipe from his mouth a second time, and stared at Marcus with eyes full of trouble and perplexity.
“If I had my rights,” cried Marcus, bitterly, “I'd have part of that money. It's my due—it's only justice.” The dentist still kept silence.
“If it hadn't been for me,” Marcus continued, addressing himself directly to McTeague, “you wouldn't have had a cent of it—no, not a cent. Where's my share, I'd like to know? Where do I come in? No, I ain't in it any more. I've been played for a sucker, an' now that you've got all you can out of me, now that you've done me out of my girl and out of my money, you give me the go-by. Why, where would you have been TO-DAY if it hadn't been for me?” Marcus shouted in a sudden exasperation, “You'd a been plugging teeth at two bits an hour. Ain't you got any gratitude? Ain't you got any sense of decency?”
“Ah, hold up, Schouler,” grumbled Heise. “You don't want to get into a row.”