"That kid, that mate of mine, rose stripped naked from his bed and thrashed Carroty Dan in Burn's model lodging-house," he said. "Now it takes a good man to thrash Carroty."
"I knocked Carroty out," said the man who accused me of working when the ganger was out of sight, and he looked covertly in my direction.
"There's a chance for you, Flynn!" cried Moleskin, in a delighted voice. "You'll never get the like of it again. Just pitch into Hell-fire Gahey and show him how you handle your pair of fives."
Gahey looked at me openly and eagerly, evincing all tokens of pleasure and willingness to come to fistic conclusions with me there and then. As for myself, I felt in just the right mood for a bit of a tussle, but at that moment Red Billy appeared from behind the crane handle and shouted across angrily:
"Come along, you God-damned, forsaken, lousy, beggarly, forespent wastrels, and get some work done!" he cried.
"Can a man not get time to light his pipe?" remonstrated Moleskin.
"Time in hell!" shouted Billy. "You're not paid for strikin' matches here."
We started work again; the fight was off for the moment, and I felt sorry. It is disappointing to rise to a pitch of excitement over nothing; and a fight keeps a man alert and alive.
Having bored the rock through to the depth of four or five feet, we placed dynamite in the hole, attached a fuse, lit it, and hurried off to a place of safety until the rock was blown to atoms. Then we returned to our labour at the jumper and hammer.