"It's better nor a month in jug," was Pat Malloy's comment. "The state won't have to feed the blackguard."
Randy had already walked on and his friends joined him, and all hurried back to the steamboat.
It was several minutes before Bill Hosker got up. "I'd like ter kill dem fellers!" he muttered.
He hurried for the nearest saloon, where he tried to drown his troubles in drink. In the saloon were several who knew him, and one man jeered him because of the black eye. This brought on another quarrel, and as a consequence both men were pushed out of the drinking resort. They continued to fight on the sidewalk, until a policeman came along and tried to stop them. Then Hosker attacked the officer, and as a consequence was placed under arrest. The next day he was brought up in court and sentenced to a year in prison for his misdeeds.
"I don't think he'll forget us," said Jones, as the steamboat was reached.
"Maybe he will lay for us," said Randy.
"Well, we can kape our eyes open," put in Pat Malloy.
"I shall not visit that neighborhood again," said our hero. "Now I have my money back I am satisfied."
"New York has altogether too many such toughs," put in Jones. "The police ought to clean them all out. When I first came here I was attacked in my boarding place on the Bowery."
"Were you robbed?"