“You, of course, the pair of you.”
“What for?”
“Vagrancy. Now hustle. I ain't goin' to loaf here all night.”
“Aw, chase yourself,” Billy advised. “I ain't a vag. I'm a workingman.”
“Maybe you are an' maybe you ain't,” said the constable; “but you can tell all that to Judge Neusbaumer in the mornin'.”
“Why you... you stinkin', dirty cur, you think you're goin' to pull me,” Billy began. “Turn the light on yourself. I want to see what kind of an ugly mug you got. Pull me, eh? Pull me? For two cents I'd get up there an' beat you to a jelly, you—”
“No, no, Billy,” Saxon pleaded. “Don't make trouble. It would mean jail.”
“That's right,” the constable approved, “listen to your woman.”
“She's my wife, an' see you speak of her as such,” Billy warned. “Now get out, if you know what's good for yourself.”
“I've seen your kind before,” the constable retorted. “An' I've got my little persuader with me. Take a squint.”