"I did," came a voice, but no one appeared to know just who the "I did" was. But there came the suggestion:
"Don't look so fierce. You're around to swipe pocketbooks, you are. I advise these gentlemen to be on the lookout."
The three dudes all closed in close to each other. Their faces were white with rage and they had just liquor enough in them to be anxious for a brawl, and one of them said:
"I'll give a hundred dollars to know who spoke."
"What will you give?" came the voice.
Ike stood still and apparently as mute as a sexton at a funeral.
"You haven't got a hundred cents; you just hung your last drink at the bar."
"You're a liar," came the declaration from one of the dudes.
"And you're a thief, or let's see your money."
The dude went down in his pockets, drew forth a roll and exclaimed, as he waved it aloft: