In his fall the one had carried the other down with him, and they were now clawing, chewing and punching one another in a drunken way.
In a moment they lay still, and after mumbling a curse or two fell asleep.[{14}]
“I’m in for it now,” thought the detective, again seating himself in a position so that the men could not leave their stall without being seen by him. “I must stay here all night if necessary in order to cultivate the acquaintance of that fellow who acts as ‘chambermaid’ for Denver Bay.”
Just at that moment the door of his stall was opened, and a greasy looking jockey shoved his face inside.
“You don’t mean ter say you’re goin’ ter smoke them cigars?” he said, taking one from the table, and breaking it in order to inspect its contents.
“Hardly. How long have you been here?”
“Oh, just about long enough to nose around in search of a certain green countryman,” said Chick, sitting down in a chair.
“Isn’t that a bold costume for this place?”
“Bold, why?”
“These people may want to know what stable you belong to.”