"I never
thought you'd do a thing like that. You are no more like the old Badger
than a calf is like a mountain-lion. You had some fire in you once, but
you have become as soft as a ninny. The whole thing simply makes me
sick."
Badger's face was red and his neck veins were swelling.
"I'm not used to any such talk whatever, Pike!" he exclaimed, as Pike
hurled these sentences back at him from the doorway. "If you say
anything like that again I'll kick you down-stairs! I've taken more off
of you to-night than I ever thought I could take from any one, and I
won't stand it any longer!"
"Cool off, old man!" Pike sneered. "You're making a chuckle-headed
prairie-dog out of yourself, I think. If you should kick me you would
kick the best friend you ever had. Good-by. See you later!"
The Westerner did not even grunt a reply, but sat still in his chair
with his hands in his pockets, his eyes glittering, his broad teeth
showing, his neck veins protuberant and his face as red as a boiled
lobster, while Pike walked away.
When Pike came back to the room Badger was gone. Pike entered with his
own key. He knew that the Westerner would likely be away a number of
hours, calling on Winnie Lee. He glanced round the room, then went to
the closet in which Badger's clothing hung.
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