"Nope. Just tried to butt t'roo."
"Another of these strong silent men. The world is full of us. These are the perils of the journalistic life. You will be safer and happier when you are rounding up cows on your mustang."
"I wonder what he wanted," said Billy, when they were back again in the inner room.
"Who can say, Comrade Windsor? Possibly our autographs. Possibly five minutes' chat on general subjects."
"I don't like the look of him," said Billy.
"Whereas what Comrade Maloney objected to was the feel of him. In what respect did his look jar upon you? His clothes were poorly cut, but such things, I know, leave you unmoved."
"It seems to me," said Billy thoughtfully, "as if he came just to get a sight of us."
"And he got it. Ah, Providence is good to the poor."
"Whoever's behind those tenements isn't going to stick at any odd trifle. We must watch out. That man was probably sent to mark us down for one of the gangs. Now they'll know what we look like, and they can get after us."
"These are the drawbacks to being public men, Comrade Windsor. We must bear them manfully, without wincing."