Listen to me. I'm starting out from this night on to break
you, and, by God, I'll do it before the year is over. This is your
last strike, so make the most of it. You were at Schmuck's the other
night, you and McQuade. There was a friend of mine on the other side
of the partition. Unfortunately this friend was alone. I haven't got
any proofs, but I'll get them."
Morrissy became yellower than his diamonds. Ben flung aside his chair
and left the hall. He went straight to Martin's saloon. He found Bill
Osborne alone at a table.
"Will they strike, Ben?" he asked in a rough whisper.
"Yes. I thought I might influence them, Bill, but I've only made an
ass of myself. Two whiskies," he ordered, "and make one of them stiff.
I told Morrissy."
"You didn't mention my name, Ben? Don't say you told him that I was on
the other side of the partition!" Bill's eyes nearly stood out of his
head.
"I told him nothing. How'd you happen to land in Schmuck's saloon,
anyhow? Why didn't you telephone me when you heard Morrissy come in?"
"Oh. Ben, I was drunk! If I hadn't been so drunk!" Bill's eyes
overflowed remorsefully.
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