anything he started."

Feinheimer looked at Little Eva disgustedly.

"He's my best customer," he cried, "and a bum waiter comes along and
beats him up just when he is trying to have a little innocent sport on
Christmas Eve. You take off your apron, young man, and get your time. I
won't have no rough stuff in Feinheimer's."

Jimmy shrugged his shoulders and grinned.

"Shouldn't I wait to see if I can't do something more for Mr. Murray?"
he suggested.

"You get out of here!" cried Feinheimer "Get out of here or I'll call
the police."

Jimmy laughed and took off his apron as he walked back to the servants'
coat-room. As he emerged again and crossed through, the dining-room he
saw that Murray had regained consciousness and was sitting at a table
wiping the blood from his face with a wet napkin. As Murray's eyes fell
upon his late antagonist he half rose from his chair and shook his fist
at Jimmy.

"I'll get you for this, young feller!" he yelled. "I'll get you yet,
and don't you forget it."

"You just had me," Jimmy called back; "but it didn't seem to make you
very happy."