“You haven’t, eh?”
“No.”
“Then you must all be in the same boat. This is rich graft.”
“What do you mean?”
Rich uttered an oath and sprang up. He realized that the cabby knew something. He was enough of a student of human nature to read the man’s intentions in the expression of his face.
The cabman did not flinch.
“I guess you’ll come to time, Mr. Rich,” he insolently remarked, with a sneer.
Rich stood within a few feet of him. He raised his arm above his head, as if he intended to strike the man, but thinking better of it, he allowed it to drop to his side again, and he muttered an oath.
Cabby was no fool. He knew what was in Rich’s mind.
“If you had tried to strike me then I’d have floored you,” he growled. “And it is well for you that you did not try it on.”