"You're warning me ahead of time?"
"You've played this game square with me; I'll play square with you. Next time there'll be no slips, Donnegan. I dunno why you should of picked on me, though. Just the natural devil in you."
"I haven't picked on you," said Donnegan.
"What?"
"I'll give you my word."
A tingle ran through the blood of Lefty Joe. Somewhere he had heard, in rumor, that the word of Donnegan was as good as gold. He recalled that rumor now and something of dignity in the manner with which Donnegan made his announcement carried a heavy weight. As a rule, the tramps vowed with many oaths; here was one of the nights of the road who made his bare word sufficient. And Lefty Joe heard with great wonder.
"All I ask," he said, "is why you hounded my gang, if you wasn't after me?"
"I didn't hound them. I ran into Suds by accident. We had trouble. Then Levine. Then Kennebec Lou tried to take a fall out of me."
A note of whimsical protest crept into the voice of Donnegan.
"Somehow there's always a fight wherever I go," he said. "Fights just sort of grow up around me."