“Nothing, and I’ll take care you don’t do anything to me.”
Bull felt like dragging the fellow from behind the bar and mauling him.
“I know,” he said, “that Mike wants to see me, Elford.”
“I’ve got nothing to do with that.”
Quick was up-stairs. He had left instructions with the bartender to deny that he was at home. Jim seemed bent upon carrying out his employer’s instructions to the very letter.
“Well,” said Blair, “give me some of your whisky.”
Elford put out a bottle and glass, and his visitor drank.
“I’ll bet,” he said, “Mike Quick will rue not seeing me.”
“Can’t you leave any message you have with me?”
“No.”