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Updated: June 20, 2025
"Time wasn't hanging about loose when he let drive," grinned Lefty Werner. "Mr. Conrad took your knife, Koppy," soothed Heppel. "You couldn't." Morani, unobserved, had drawn from some hidden part of him a long stiletto and was whetting it slowly on the palm of his hand. Fascinated, they watched. "We were a hundred to two," reflected Koppy in a low voice; and his eyes were puzzled.
"I'm not, of course!" "Sometimes I question it. Werner and Morani and Heppel were sent by the bohunks. With Koppy they have the whole bunch in the hollow of their hands. We couldn't face a strike at this time of the year; we'd never get another crew now till next spring and you couldn't stand that. . . . Don't imagine you've cowed them through their delegation.
Torrance and Conrad, without seeming to notice, were aware that something was in brew; and, wishing to meet it in the open, they did not enter the shack. Presently Koppy and one of his bosom friends, Carl Heppel, detached themselves from the loitering group and approached the boss. "What you pay overtime, my men ask?" "Overtime!" Torrance's roar rolled out over the valley. "What in h d'ye mean?
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