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'Why not save expinse, says he, 'an' ship the crew av this German liner that's interned over in Richardson's Bay? Riggins, to make a long shtory short, we have thim this minute, an' the dear God knows that even if shipped at the German scale av wages that gang'll prove a dear crew to the Blue Star Navigation Company if you an' I, Riggins, fail to do our djooty.
But there ain't a-going to be no fighting while I've got these cows on my han's. That gang'll be here when we come back, all right." "Mebby one or two of 'em won't," remarked Hawkins, as he looked again over the carnage along the fence. "I never did much pot-shooting, 'cept agin Injuns; but I dunno " He did not finish, for the strangers were almost at his elbow.
The shanties and parked airjalopies of Junktown were floodlighted from above; lines of men were beating the brush and poking among them. Once a car passed directly below the pickup, a man staring at the ground from it over a machine gun. "Wooo! Am I glad I'm not in that mess!" Gerd exclaimed. "Anybody sees something he thinks is a Fuzzy and half that gang'll massacre each other in ten seconds."
What he wants me to do is to take the hoss in my string, get him identified 'n' start him a couple of times; then when the odds is real juicy I'm to start Friendless under the dog's name 'n' Harms 'n' his gang'll bet him to a whisper at the poolrooms in Chicago 'n' New York. "'Where's Friendless now? I asks him. "'They're gettin' him ready on a bull-ring up in Illinois, says Harms.
The engineer 'e's a Scotchman 'as as much whisky inside 'im already as a man can 'old an' keep 'is legs; an' the 'ole gang'll be goin' ashore again to-night all but the mate.
A misdoubt me if there were a felly theere as would ha' thought o' routling out yon wasps' nest; it tak's a deal o' mother-wit to be up to things. But t' gang'll niver harbour theere again, one while. A only wish we'd cotched 'em. An' a should like t' ha' gi'en Hobbs a bit o' my mind. 'He's had his sauce, said Simpson, dolefully. 'Him and me is ruined.
"See, he's paid him, an' some of the judges is willin' an' some are beefin'. An' now that other gang's going up they're Redhead's." He turned to Saxon with a reassuring smile. "We're well out of it this time. There's goin' to be rough stuff down there in a minute." "The judges are tryin' to make him give the money back," Bert explained. "An' if he don't the other gang'll take it away from him.
"Say," he growled, his eyes lighting with added ferocity. "That cargo is to be run down the river on Monday night about midnight. There'll be a big rack of hay come in by trail the river trail and most of the gang'll be with it. If you locate it they calculate you'll get busy unloading to find the liquor. Meanwhile the cargo'll slip through on the river, in a small boat. Savee?
He greeted the arrival with the easy casualness of the northlander. "Glad to see you, Chief," he said, shaking hands. "Stuff aboard? Good," as the other nodded. "Guess the gang'll ship it right away jest as soon as they haul it out o' the guts of the old tub. You goin' on up with the mail? She's due to get busy in two hours, if she don't get colic or some other fool trouble."
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