"Look out, Mr. Legree!" called Matt, through the opening. "He's trying to get where he can drop out here."
Matt's words caused Brisco and O'Grady to swerve their glances in his direction. A glint darted into Brisco's eyes at sight of Matt. Hank Brisco had good reason to remember the young motorist.
"This looks like a put-up job, O'Grady," said Brisco, still keeping the whip-hand of himself.
"Well, begob," cried O'Grady, "no pack av blackguards can come into th' Shamrock Hotel an' shtir up throuble f'r me customers. Clear out av here," he added, brandishing his fists, "or Oi'll be afther gittin' busy wid me hands."
"Is that man the one who helped rob Tomlinson, Matt?" asked Legree, nodding his head toward Brisco.
"He's the one," answered Matt. "I'd know him anywhere. Don't let him——"
Just at that moment, O'Grady, wofully deceived, but thinking he was doing exactly what was right, kicked a chair at Legree.
The chair struck Legree's shins with a force that hurled him back against the wall.
"Now, then," roared O'Grady to Brisco, "make a run av it! Oi'll take care av this boonch av meddlers!"
With that, he hurled himself upon Legree and the two began to struggle, falling over the chair and dropping heavily on the floor.