"Come out, Mr. Glass, it's
all over."
Larry muttered in a stifled voice, "Go 'way!"
"It was a mistake."
He opened his tight-shut lids, rolled over, and thrust forth a
round, pallid face. He saw Stover laughing, and beheld the white
teeth of Carara, the Mexican, who said:
"Perhaps the Senor is sleepy!"
Finding himself the object of what seemed to him a particularly
senseless joke, the New-Yorker crept forth, his face suffused
with anger. Strangely enough, he still retained the pipe in his
fingers.
"Say, are youse guys tryin' to kid me?" he demanded, roughly. Now
that no firearm was in sight, he was master of himself again; and
seeing the cause of his undignified alarm leaning against the
table, he stepped toward him threateningly. "If you try that
again, young feller, I'll chip you on the jaw, and give you a
long, dreamy nap." He thrust a short, square fist under Willie's
nose.
That scholarly gentleman straightened up, and edged his way to
one side, Glass following aggressively.
"You're a husky, ain't you?" said the little man, squinting up at
the red face above him.
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