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Heise believed himself to be particularly strong in the wrists, but the dentist, using but one hand, twisted a cane out of Heise's two with a wrench that all but sprained the harnessmaker's arm. Then the dentist raised weights and chinned himself on the rings till they thought he would never tire.
McTeague did not answer, but looked intently at the blood-stained bosom of his shirt. "Mac," cried Trina, her face close to his, "tell us something the best thing we can do to stop your ear bleeding." "Collodium," said the dentist. "But we can't get to that right away; we " "There's some ice in our lunch basket," broke in Heise.
A regular greaser trick!" "Look out he don't stab you in the back. If that's the kind of man he is, you never can tell." Frenna drew the knife from the wall. "Guess I'll keep this toad-stabber," he observed. "That fellow won't come round for it in a hurry; goodsized blade, too." The group examined it with intense interest. "Big enough to let the life out of any man," observed Heise.
He had ceased to cry out, but kept muttering between his gripped jaws, as he labored to tear himself free of the retaining hands: "Ah, I'll kill him! Ah, I'll kill him! I'll kill him! Damn you, Heise," he exclaimed suddenly, trying to strike the harness-maker, "let go of me, will you!"
"I guess that's all right." "That's the idea," exclaimed Heise, delighted at his success. "Come on, boys, now let's drink." Their elbows crooked and they drank silently. Their picnic that day was very jolly. Nothing had changed at Schuetzen Park since the day of that other memorable Sieppe picnic four years previous.
The result of the festival was the organizing of a body known as the "Polk Street Improvement Club," of which Marcus was elected secretary. McTeague and Trina often heard of him in this capacity through Heise the harness-maker. Marcus had evidently come to have political aspirations.
He drank again with Heise. "Get up here to the stove and warm yourself," urged Heise, drawing up a couple of chairs and cocking his feet upon the guard. The two fell to talking while McTeague's draggled coat and trousers smoked. "What a dirty turn that was that Marcus Schouler did you!" said Heise, wagging his head. "You ought to have fought that, Doc, sure. You'd been practising too long."
"I had always believed Schouler to be such a good fellow." "That's because you're so good yourself, Mr. Grannis," responded Trina. "I tell you what, Doc," declared Heise the harness-maker, shaking his finger impressively at the dentist, "you must fight it; you must appeal to the courts; you've been practising too long to be debarred now. The statute of limitations, you know."
Heise started back from the sudden apparition of a white-lipped woman in a blue dressing-gown that seemed to rise up before him from his very doorstep. "Well, Mrs. McTeague, you did scare me, for " "Oh, come over here quick." Trina put her hand to her neck; swallowing something that seemed to be choking her. "Maria's killed Zerkow's wife I found her." "Get out!" exclaimed Heise, "you're joking."
Heise laid a retaining hand upon his companion's coat sleeve, but Marcus swung himself around in his chair, and, fixing his eyes on McTeague, cried as if in answer to some protestation on the part of Heise: "All I know is that I've been soldiered out of five thousand dollars." McTeague gaped at him, bewildered.
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