"How much is in it?" was what Barbee said, with vast indifference.
Steve hesitated. Then he frowned. And finally he laughed.
"You've got me there," he admitted frankly. "All the money I've got in
the world to-night is right here." He spilled the contents of his
pocket upon a table. "There's about seventy-five bucks. Unless I can
turn a trick somewhere before pay-day all you boys will have to take
your pro rata out of that."
Bill Royce shifted nervously in his chair, opened his mouth, then
closed it wordlessly. Barbee shrugged elaborately.
"I'll take a chance," he said. "It would be worth it if I lost; jus'
to put one across on Blenham."
"All right," and still Packard eyed young Barbee keenly, wondering just
how much ability lay hidden under that somewhat unsatisfactory
exterior. "You can go back to the boys now and tell them that you're
boss when I'm not on hand. Before they go to work in the morning you
show up here again and we'll talk a lot of things over."
Barbee ducked his head in token of acquiescence and perhaps to hide the
glitter in his eyes, and walked on his heels to the door. Packard's
voice arrested him there.
"Just one thing, Barbee: I don't want any trouble started. Not with
Blenham or with any of old man Packard's men. I know how you feel, but
if you work for me you'll have to let me be the one who starts things.
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