The doctor cleared his throat and pulled down his plaid waistcoat. "No, I didn’t. But I didn’t come round for to give you any hot air, neither! I’m glad I struck Madam Spoll here, for what I got to say may interest her, too." "Spit it out and get rid of it, then," said Vixley; "don’t mind us." "The fact is," said Masterson, "you ain’t neither of you treated me square. I fully expected to be in on this Payson game, from what you led me to believe, and you not only let me out with only a month’s work, but you’ve shut me off from the main graft." Madam Spoll fired up. "We never told you we was going to whack up with you, at all! Seems to me you got considerable nerve to try and butt in! Who’s running this thing, anyway? You got all that’s coming to you. We ain’t never took him into partnership, Vixley, have we?" "I ain’t seen no contrack to that effect. You ain’t got no call to complain, Doc; they ain’t enough in it for three. Payson ain’t loosened up enough for us to retire on it, yet." Masterson’s thin lips drew back like a hound’s, to show his fangs. His Adam’s apple rose and fell above his celluloid collar, as he swallowed his irritation. "_Oh_, very well," he said quickly. "Of course, if you want to freeze me out, you can. But I don’t call it a square deal. I was the one what got him going, wan’t I? Didn’t I do my part all right? I understand you’re going to materialize him and develop him, and the Lord knows what-all. I don’t see why you can’t find room for me, somewhere." "You ought to be thankful for what you got out of it!" Madam Spoll exclaimed. "Lord, we didn’t have to take you on at all! They’s plenty of others we could have used. You’re three hundred ahead of the game as it stands, and that’s more than you’ve ever made in six months, before. Don’t be a hog!" "That’s a nice thing for _you_ to say," he sneered. "When I get up to two hundred pounds I’ll begin to worry about _that_." Vixley interfered craftily. "We’ll think it over and let you know, Doc; we may be able to use you, perhaps, but we can’t tell yet a while—not till we see how this thing turns out." Madam Spoll broke in again, shaking her fat finger at him. "Don’t you believe it, Masterson! Me and Vixley can work this thing alone, and you better keep your nose out of our business! If you come here looking for trouble, you can find it, fast enough!" Vixley winked at her, but she was too angry to notice it. Masterson rose stiffly and faced her, his thumbs caught in the armholes of his plaid waistcoat. "All right," he said. "I ain’t going to get down on to my knees to _you_. But the next time I’m asked for a good clairvoyant, it won’t be you. I only ask what’s fair, and I didn’t come here for to be insulted." "Oh, get on to yourself!" Vixley said, taking him by the arm. "Nobody ain’t insulted you. You can’t blame us if we want to do this our own way, can you?"