"Oh, the machine gun," said Blossom. "God help you! Rotten old boat! Where's Hickey?"
"I'd be glad to know that myself."
"Owes me half a dollar," said Blossom.
"Have you seen my friend that brought her in?" asked Greg anxiously, "young boy?"
Blossom shook his head. "He woke me up backin' and fillin', tryin' to snake her in. I knew it was a green hand bringin' in the machine gun. I cursed him, but I didn't get up. Us fellows gets little enough sleep. He was a determined cuss all right; stuck at it till he got her in."
Watching Greg's handy way with the tires Blossom said: "You're not so new."
"First time I've been on my own," said Greg, wishing to convey that he had long been a chauffeur for others.
"You made a mistake," said Blossom dejectedly. "Rotten life! Look at me. You're tormented night and day not knowing how you're going to come out. As soon as you get square something breaks on you and there's another repair bill. Give me another man's car under me and my pay Saturday night."
"Oh well, there's the independence of it," said Greg.
"To Hell with Independence! Independence don't pay no repair bills!"