“I want to give you some advice, partner,” replied Monty gravely. “If you know something you think faculty would like to hear it’ll pay you best to forget all about it.”
“I don’t know what you mean!”
“I think you do, son. And my advice to you is: Don’t do it! Because if I found that faculty had learned something unpleasant about me I’d hitch it right up to you, and then, if it was the last act of my young and blameless career, I’d everlastingly wallop you, hombre. Sprinkle that on your oats and chew it!”
“If I did know anything,” blustered Alvin, “your threats wouldn’t keep me quiet. Not if I wanted to tell. I’m not saying, though, whether I know anything or not.” He smirked. “Maybe I do, and maybe I don’t. That’s for you to find out.”
“Whether you do or don’t isn’t worrying me, Standart. I’m only giving you fair warning that if you talk you’ll wish you hadn’t. Savvy?”
“I’m not afraid of you, you blow-hard! I’ll do just as I please. Maybe if I wanted to I could tell Mr. Rumford something that would interest him, though.”
“So you do know, eh?” asked Monty grimly. He began to get out of his coat. [“Then I guess you’ve already squealed, and I’d better——”]
[“Then I guess you’ve already squealed, and I’d better——”]
“I haven’t!” protested Alvin, moving hurriedly around the table. “Give you my word I haven’t, Crail!”