“Well, you jest take my tip, an’ go ahead on it. It’s all right.”
The detective paid for the drinks, and turned away, but the other caught him fiercely by the arm.
“Hold on here!” he said, with an ugly look. “That tip’ll cost you just ten dollars.”
“I didn’t ask you for no tip,” said the assumed countryman, with a stare.
“Well, you got it just the same, an’ you’ll get somethin’ else, too, if you don’t cash up.”
“You won’t get no ten dollars from me.”
The bully struck viciously at the de[{11}]tective, who dodged away from him in a clumsy sort of way.
Nick was perfectly aware that the man meant business, and had no idea of coming to close quarters with him.
He well knew that a clinch of any kind would be likely to disarrange his disguise and thus expose his true identity.
With an oath the bully advanced again and struck a savage blow at the detective’s face.