"Hellish," returned Sharpe, wiping glasses.
"How far to Deep Willows?" asked the other, presently.
"Nigh seven," replied Sharpe.
"Across the river?"
"You don't need to. Keep to the right bank."
"Good. Thanks."
The stranger finished his drink, and made his way out of the place.
In a moment the "strikers" were crowding at the window watching his departure. They saw him walk across the road to a large automobile waiting for him. They saw him speak to the driver, and then jump into the seat beside him. Then the machine, with a heavy snort, rolled away.
"Another all-fired capitalist," laughed Josh.
"Friend of Hendrie's," murmured Abe.