The Austrian glowered. Then, tilting back his bristling head, he tossed the liquor down his long throat.
"Give me another, you Dutchie," he ordered, pushing his glass across the bar.
Angel began a quieting word, but Mirka broke in, still addressing Hermann.
"Get a move on, or I'll break yer face, Dutchie!" he insisted.
Hermann's jaw was suddenly set in a rigid line. He remained motionless.
"Come on, now!" said Mirka.
"Don' maka these treecks," protested Angelelli, dividing his plea between his hearers, and placing his hand upon the Austrian's shoulder.
"You shut up!" retorted Mirka, shaking himself free. "And you, you Dutch fool, give me a drink—quick!"
Hermann did not obey. He saw at last the fellow's condition.
"You've had enough," he said.