"Well, you tread on them every time you stop at the gold-scales, if you want to know. I have a religion, too, and it's locked up in the cashier's cage."
There was a pause; the girls appraised each other with mutual dislike.
"You mean Mr. Phillips?"
"I do. See that you call him 'Mister,' and learn to walk home alone."
"Don't order me. I can't take orders."
Laure was beside herself at this defiance. She grew blind with rage, so much so that she did not notice Phillips himself; he had approached within hearing distance. "You've got the boss; he's crazy about you, but Pierce is mine—"
"What's that?" It was Phillips who spoke. "What are you saying about me?" Both girls started. Laure turned upon him furiously.
"I'm serving notice on this faro-dealer, that's all. But it goes for you, too—"
Phillips' eyes opened, his face whitened with an emotion neither girl had before seen. To Rouletta he said, quietly:
"The other boys are busy, so I came to take you home."