"I'm in fer it," he groaned, expecting that Robert was at his heels.
But the boy was nowhere to be seen, and at once his courage arose, and he concluded that Robert had given up the chase. He counted his money and found that he had exactly a dollar and ten cents left. The balance of the cash had been paid over to the saloon keeper and to Robert.
"I guess I'll git anudder drink," he murmured, and rolled over to the nearest dive. Here in less than half an hour every cent that had been left was spent, and then Pat started for home. He could not walk straight, and frequently bumped up against those he passed. He had passed less than three blocks when he espied Mike coming toward him.
"Bedad, I can't let him see me!" he reasoned, and tried to steer out of sight. But Mike was too quick for him, and the pair confronted each other at the entrance to a lumber yard.
"Well, how much did yer git?" was Mike's first question.
"Didn't git nuthin," answered Pat boldly.
"Yer got a whole handful of money," retorted Mike. "I want half, do yer mind dat?"
"I ain't got nuthin," was all Pat could answer.
A wordy quarrel followed, and then the two roughs came to blows. They were encouraged to fight by the by-standers, who loved nothing better than to witness a "scrap," and it was not until a policeman came up that the encounter came to an end. Each contestant had a bloody nose, and their eyes were so swollen they could scarcely see out of them.
"You're both good for sixty days in jail," said the officer of the law, and marched them to headquarters. Instead of sixty, each got ninety days, and I think my readers will agree with me that they richly deserved their sentences.