“All right, we’ll let that pass for the present, as we are not in a position to prove it, that is just now,” Bob added, with strong emphasis on the last two words.
Big Ben Donahue was getting all the worst of the argument, and he had sense enough to know it, but it was not in his nature to give up so long as he had a foot on which to stand.
“It’s no use to multiply words about it,” he declared, buttoning up his mackinaw. “But I warn ye once more not to cut another stick on that property, and if ye do I’ll make ye wish that ye hadn’t,” and with a savage scowl he was gone.
“Pleasant company, isn’t he,” Bob remarked with a smile, as he began to arrange the men on the checker board.
“He was bluffing and he knew it,” Jack declared, picking up the book which he had been reading when Big Ben came in.
“Mebby,” Bob agreed. “But the big question is, does his bluff go?”
“Not any,” Jack replied quickly, but Tom shook his head slowly.
“Sure and it’s meself as knows the kind of a gang he’s got. If he brings ’em up here somebody’ll git a broken head or two, and it’s meself as doubts if the game’s worth it.”
“I’ll tell you how we can fix it,” Jack declared suddenly, throwing his book on the table.
“All right. Spring it,” Bob said.