“You’re crazy. You’re sucking around for a couple of drubbings.”
“No. I want you to tell El Garro that I don’t care to be chasing El Bizco around. What’s more, I want you to tell him to quit hounding me. Now you know just what to do.”
“What I’m going to do is give you a couple of kicks this very minute, you informer!”
“We’ll see about that.”
The Cripple lurched over to Manuel with his closed fist and aimed a blow at him; but Manuel was agile enough to seize him by the arm, shove him backwards, make him lose his balance and send him falling across the table, which was overturned with a formidable crash. Calatrava regained his feet; he was in a fury and made for Manuel once more; but the noise had brought some men, who separated them. It was at this juncture that the Master appeared in the doorway of the office.
“What’s the trouble?” he asked, eyeing Calatrava and Manuel severely. “You fellows get out of here,” he ordered, turning to the spectators.
The three were left alone, and Manuel explained the reason of the squabble.
The Master, after hearing the story, turned to Calatrava.
“Is all this he’s been telling you true?”
“Yes. But he came here with demands and threats....”