“Just came in here out of the cold, mister,” Snadder tried to conciliate the three newcomers.
“Eating up the stores, too, eh?” went on Jeek, striding into the small rear room to see empty cans scattered on the floor beneath the bunk.
“Sure, we ate a little, mister. But we’re willing to pay you,” whined Blinky, hoping he could get affairs on a more friendly basis by such an offer.
It was evident, however, that Jeek and his two companions were not going to let the tramps get by so easily.
“Best thing you can do is to get out of here!” said Fallon, making room by stepping further into the place. This left an unobstructed passage through the doorway.
A great deal more light was thus let into the room, and both the tramps instantly recognized, as Jeek pulled off his mackinaw, this burly man of the race-tracks.
Blinky started to recall the acquaintance, but Snadder was too quick and interrupted long enough to hinder Blinky, at the same time putting a hand on Blinky’s shoulder and squeezing it slightly.
“Mister,” he said to Fallon, “can’t we make some kind of a deal? We’re broke, flat broke! We ain’t got a cent, and nothing to eat. Can’t we stay here and work for you fellows?”
“Not a chance!” Fallon’s voice came with a roar as he realized these two strangers were afraid. His courage was aroused by the lack of any aggressiveness. “Get out of here and get out quick. Suppose we want you two dirty hounds around here with gentlemen?”
Though Snadder was a common tramp, though he was without means of living and down in the world, as the saying goes, yet he had a sense of humor and his mind was not sluggish.