“What the devil!” ejaculated Joe, who was a blunt man in spite of his fat.  “You want us to keep Jack from fightin’, but you don’t want us to hurt the other gent.  What you want?  Hogtie ’em both?”

“Yes, yes; keep Jack out of Milligan’s; but for heaven’s sake don’t try to put a hand on Donnegan.”

“Why not?”

“For your sakes; he’d kill you, Joe!”

At this they both gaped in unison, and as one man they drawled in vast admiration:  “Good heavens!”

“But go, go, go!” cried the girl.

And she shoved them through the door and into the night.

22

To the people in Milligan’s it had been most incredible that Jack Landis should withdraw from a competition of any sort.  And though the girls were able to understand his motives in taking Nelly Lebrun away they were not able to explain this fully to their men companions.  For one and all they admitted that Jack was imperiling his hold on the girl in question if he allowed her to stay near this red-headed fiend.  But one and all they swore that Jack Landis had ruined himself with her by taking her away.  And this was a paradox which made masculine heads in The Corner spin.  The main point was that Jack Landis had backed down before a rival; and this fact was stunning enough.  Donnegan, however, was not confused.  He sent big George to ask Milligan to come to him for a moment.

Milligan, at this, cursed George, but he was drawn by curiosity to consent.  A moment later he was seated at Donnegan’s table, drinking his own liquor as it was served to him from the hands of big George.  If the first emotions of the dance-hall proprietor were anger and intense curiosity, his second emotion was that never-failing surprise which all who came close to the wanderer felt.  For he had that rare faculty of seeming larger when in action, even when actually near much bigger men.  Only when one came close to Donnegan one stepped, as it were, through a veil, and saw the almost fragile reality.  When Milligan had caught his breath and adjusted himself, he began as follows: 

“Now, Bud,” he said, “you’ve made a pretty play.  Not bad at all.  But no more bluffs in Milligan’s.”

“Bluff!” Donnegan repeated gently.

“About your servant.  I let it pass for one night, but not for another.”

“My dear Mr. Milligan!  However”—­changing the subject easily—­“what I wish to speak to you about is a bit of trouble which I foresee.  I think, sir, that Jack Landis is coming back.”

“What makes you think that?”

“It’s a feeling I have.  I have queer premonitions, Mr. Milligan, I’m sure he’s coming and I’m sure he’s going to attempt a murder.”

Milligan’s thick lips framed his question but he did not speak:  fear made his face ludicrous.

“Right here?”

“Yes.”

“A shootin’ scrape here!  You?”

“He has me in mind.  That’s why I’m speaking to you.”