“The damn dip! He done me up,” he said--and plunged into an incoherent and many-cursed account of what had happened. Keighley heard him in silence. When Doherty’s part in the affair was made plain, the captain “sized up” the situation with the frown of a chess-player studying the board, and said “Ummm” as he saw his play. “Shine” finished, humble and submissive. Keighley said, “Go to yer bunk.” It is the tradition of the department that a captain shall enforce discipline in his company without sending his men to Headquarters on every trifling charge that he has against them. Keighley watched “Shine” out, snorted contemptously through his nose, reached for the newspaper again, and returned to the column that reported the Fire Commissioner’s resignation. He had “Shine” where he “wanted” him, as he would have said. And he had his whole company in the hollow of his hand. “Shine” knew it. The “Jiggers” knew it. “It’ll be off to the goose-pastures fer ours all right,” Cripps said, discussing the situation with “Shine.” “The chief’ll get back, now, an’ if he don’t find a way to break us, he’ll ship us off to the Bronx. I don’t care a damn anyway,” he added in feeble defiance. “Ner me!” “Shine” clenched his hand. “I’m lookin’ fer Doherty. If they kick me out o’ the department, I’ll find him all the quicker. An’ I want youse fullahs to keep yer eyes skinned fer him. Jus’ tell me where he’s workin’. That’s all! I’ll do the rest.” Cripps swore plaintively. “After us fightin’ ol’ Clinkers fer him, too.” “An’ fer the rest o’ them,” “Shine” cried. “They’ve played us fer suckers--Moran an’ the whole dirty gang. They’ve used us. An now when they’re afraid o’ fallin’ down, they’ll chuck us. That’s all we’ll get out o’ the ‘Jigger’ bus’ness. Yuh’ll see.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand; he was almost “drooling” with disgust and bitterness. “Never mind. If I ever get ahold o’ Doherty!” he promised himself.