By the light of the moon he could dimly see Pat standing uneasily off
by the tracks, and the heads of two men down below in the bushes near
the lower end of the Highway where it crossed the tracks and swept on
South between two mountains.
Pat held his watch in his hand and looked very ugly, but nothing fazed
Billy. He didn't have to carry this thing out if he didn't want to, and
the man knew he knew too much to be ugly to him.
"There you are, you young Pill you!" was Pat's greeting, "What kinduva
time is this 'ere to be coming along to your expensive job? I said
eight!"
"Oh," said Billy with a shrug and jumped to his wheel again, "Then I
guess I'll be going back. Good night!"
"Here! Wait up there, you young devil! You come mighty nigh dishing the
whole outfit, but now you're here, you'll earn your ten bucks I was
fool enough to give you, but nothing more, do you hear that?" and the
man leered into his freckled young face with an ugly gun in his hand.
Billy eyed the gun calmly. He had seen guns before. Moreover he didn't
believe the man had the nerve to shoot. He wasn't quite so sure of the
two dark shadows in the bushes below, but it was well to be on the safe
side.
"Keep yer shirt on," said Billy impertinently, "and save yer powder.
You don't want the whole nation to know about this little affair of
ours do you Pat?"
The wide one glared.
"Well, you better not have anything like shooting going on, fer I've
got some friends back here a little way waiting to joy ride back with
me when my work's over. They might get funny if they heard a gun and
come too soon."
"You little devil, you! I mighta known you'd give it away--!" he began,
but he lowered the gun perceptibly. "Every little skunk like you is
yella--yella as the devil--"
But Pat did not finish his sentence, for Billy, with a blaze in his
eyes like the lamps of a tiger, and a fierce young cat-like leap flew
at the flabby creature, wrenched the gun out of his astonished hand,
and before he could make any outcry held it tantalizingly in his face.
Billy had never had any experience before with bullies and bandits
except in his dreams; but he had played football, and tackled every
team in the Valley, and he had no fear of anything. Moreover he had
spent long hours boxing and wrestling with Mark Carter, and he was hard
as nails and wiry as a cat. The fat one was completely in his hands. Of
course those other two down across the tracks might have made trouble
if Pat had cried out, but they were too far away to see or hear the
silent scuffle on the platform. But Billy was taking no chances.