“Gee! ain’t he hot stuff!”

“Git onto his shape!  Great Gawd!”

“Hey,” cried Jimmie, in tones of command.  Pete came along slowly, with a sullen dropping of the under lip.

“Well,” he growled, “what’s eatin’ yehs?”

“Gin,” said Jimmie.

“Gin,” said the companion.

As Pete confronted them with the bottle and the glasses, they laughed in his face.  Jimmie’s companion, evidently overcome with merriment, pointed a grimy forefinger in Pete’s direction.

“Say, Jimmie,” demanded he, “what deh hell is dat behind deh bar?”

“Damned if I knows,” replied Jimmie.  They laughed loudly.  Pete put down a bottle with a bang and turned a formidable face toward them.  He disclosed his teeth and his shoulders heaved restlessly.

“You fellers can’t guy me,” he said.  “Drink yer stuff an’ git out an’ don’ make no trouble.”

Instantly the laughter faded from the faces of the two men and expressions of offended dignity immediately came.

“Who deh hell has said anyt’ing teh you,” cried they in the same breath.

The quiet stranger looked at the door calculatingly.

“Ah, come off,” said Pete to the two men.  “Don’t pick me up for no jay.  Drink yer rum an’ git out an’ don’ make no trouble.”

“Oh, deh hell,” airily cried Jimmie.

“Oh, deh hell,” airily repeated his companion.

“We goes when we git ready!  See!” continued Jimmie.

“Well,” said Pete in a threatening voice, “don’ make no trouble.”

Jimmie suddenly leaned forward with his head on one side.  He snarled like a wild animal.

“Well, what if we does?  See?” said he.

Dark blood flushed into Pete’s face, and he shot a lurid glance at Jimmie.

“Well, den we’ll see whose deh bes’ man, you or me,” he said.

The quiet stranger moved modestly toward the door.

Jimmie began to swell with valor.

“Don’ pick me up fer no tenderfoot.  When yeh tackles me yeh tackles one of deh bes’ men in deh city.  See?  I’m a scrapper, I am.  Ain’t dat right, Billie?”

“Sure, Mike,” responded his companion in tones of conviction.

“Oh, hell,” said Pete, easily.  “Go fall on yerself.”

The two men again began to laugh.

“What deh hell is dat talkin’?” cried the companion.

“Damned if I knows,” replied Jimmie with exaggerated contempt.

Pete made a furious gesture.  “Git outa here now, an’ don’ make no trouble.  See?  Youse fellers er lookin’ fer a scrap an’ it’s damn likely yeh’ll fin’ one if yeh keeps on shootin’ off yer mout’s.  I know yehs!  See?  I kin lick better men dan yehs ever saw in yer lifes.  Dat’s right!  See?  Don’ pick me up fer no stuff er yeh might be jolted out in deh street before yeh knows where yeh is.  When I comes from behind dis bar, I t’rows yehs bote inteh deh street.  See?”