Here was his chance. Before he reached the stable he had planned the whole scene, even to the exact intonation of Lathers's voice when he referred to the dearth of mustaches in the Grogan household. Within a few minutes of his arrival the details of the whole occurrence, word for word, with such picturesque additions as his own fertile imagination could invent, were common talk about the yard.
Lathers meanwhile had been called upon to direct a gang of laborers who were moving an enormous iron buoy-float down the cinder-covered path to the dock. Two of the men walked beside the buoy, steadying it with their hands. Lathers was leaning against the board fence of the shop whittling a stick, while the others worked.
Suddenly there was an angry cry for Lathers, and every man stood still. So did the buoy and the moving truck.
With head up, eyes blazing, her silk hood pushed back from her face, as if to give her air, her gray ulster open to her waist, her right hand bare of a glove, came Tom Grogan, brushing the men out of her way.
"I knew I'd find you, Pete Lathers," she said, facing him squarely; "why do ye want to be takin' the bread out of me children's mouths?"
The stick dropped from Lathers's hand: "Well, who said I did?
What have I got to do with your"--"You've got enough to do with 'em, you and your friend McGaw, to want 'em to starve. Have I ever hurt ye that ye should try an' sneak me business away from me? Ye know very well the fight I've made, standin' out on this dock, many a day an' night, in the cold an' wet, with nothin' between Tom's children an' the street but these two hands--an' yet ye'd slink in like a dog to get me"--"Here, now, I ain't a-goin' to have no row," said Lathers, twitching his shoulders. "It's against orders, an' I'll call the yard-watch, and throw you out if you make any fuss."
"The yard-watch!" said Tom, with a look of supreme contempt. "I can handle any two of 'em, an' ye too, an' ye know it." Her cheeks were aflame. She crowded Lathers so closely his slinking figure hugged the fence.
By this time the gang had abandoned the buoy, and were standing aghast, watching the fury of the Amazon.
"Now, see here, don't make a muss; the commandant'll be down here in a minute."
"Let him come; he's the one I want to see. If he knew he had a man in his pay that would do as dirty a trick to a woman as ye've done to me, his name would be Dinnis. I'll see him meself this very day, and"--Here Lathers interrupted with an angry gesture.
"Don't ye lift yer arm at me," she blazes out, "or I'll break it at the wrist!"
Lathers's hand dropped. All the color was out of his face, his lip quivering.
"Whoever said I said a word against you, Mrs. Grogan, is a--liar."
It was the last resort of a cowardly nature.
"Stop lyin' to me, Pete Lathers! If there's anythin' in this world I hate, it's a liar. Ye said it, and ye know ye said it.
Ye want that drunken loafer Dan McGaw to get me work. Ye've been at it all summer, an' ye think I haven't watched ye; but I have.
And ye say I don't pay full wages, and have got a lot of boys to do men's work, an' oughter be over me tubs. Now let me tell ye"--Lathers shrank back, cowering before her--"if ever I hear ye openin' yer head about me, or me teams, or me work, I'll make ye swallow every tooth in yer head. Send down somethin' with a mustache, will I? There's not a man in the yard that's a match for me, an' ye know it. Let one of 'em try that."
Her uplifted fist, tight-clenched, shot past Lathers's ear. A quick blow, a plank knocked clear of its fastenings, and a flood of daylight broke in behind Lathers's head!
"Now, the next time I come, Pete Lathers," she said firmly, "I'll miss the plank and take yer face."
Then she turned, and stalked out of the yard.
