than two gallons. He pulled up, and ordered his tank filled. He proffered a twenty-dollar bill to the attendant.
The service man shook his head.
“Can’t change that. Nothing smaller?”
Harry searched in his pocket. Two twenties were all the money he had with him.
“I’ll get it changed for you,” volunteered the man.
“Make it quick. I’m in a hurry.”
“You’ll have to wait a minute,” replied the man. “Here’s another car coming up, and I’ll have to serve him gas before I can leave.
“Where are you going to change it?”
“Over there at the lunch wagon.”
Vincent looked to where the service man pointed.
“Tell you what,” he said, “I’ll leave my car here, and get it changed myself.”
“Okay,” replied the service man. “Tell them Fred sent you. They’ll change it for you.”
Vincent walked to the lunch wagon, climbed the steps, and pulled back the sliding door. There were two men behind the counter, and several others sitting on the stools.
“Change a twenty?” asked Vincent. “Fred sent me.”
“Sure thing.”
Vincent counted the bills that he received, thrust the money in his pocket, and placed his hand upon the handle of the sliding door. Before he could open it, the door slid back suddenly. A man was entering the lunch wagon, and Harry found himself confronted by English Johnny!
CHAPTER XXV
A FRIEND IN NEED
Harry stepped aside to let English Johnny pass.
Trying to appear nonchalant, Harry hoped he might escape recognition. The episode of the taxicab had occurred less than twenty-four hours before; but Harry was no longer wearing the cap and uniform in which the beefy-faced individual had seen him.
English Johnny’s attention was distracted for a moment by a cry of greeting that came from the men who were eating at the counter.
“H’lo, Johnny!” called one. “Heard you were coming out tonight.”
“Hello, boys,” was the reply from the doorway. “Yes, I expected to be out of town, but I sent word I’d come here instead to see how business was coming along.”
The big man entered the lunch wagon, as he stepped forward, Harry Vincent started to slip by. In his anxiety to get out, he accidentally jolted English Johnny.
“Hey fellow!” shouted English Johnny gruffly. “What’s your hurry?”
He gripped Harry’s arm, and stared into his face.
“Just the fellow I’ve been looking for!” English Johnny exclaimed.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t try to crawl out of it, now. You’re the fellow who was giving me the run-around last night.”
Harry forced a laugh.
“I don’t quite comprehend,” he said.
“You were driving a cab last night.”
“You must be mistaken.”
“Think so? Well, I don’t.”
There was a tone of finality in English Johnny’s voice.
Plainly, the man meant trouble. Harry started to shake himself loose, but the big man’s grip only tightened.
“You can’t get out of it that easy,” said English Johnny.
“Out of what?”
“Out of this - that’s what. You tried to pull a fast one on me last night. I’ll see to it that you don’t fool me again.”
The crowd at the back of the lunch wagon was moving forward. They were unanimously in accord with English Johnny.
Harry figured that a break for freedom was the only course. But to escape he must get the awkward door open and, at the same time, hold off English Johnny.
The big fellow evidently divined Harry’s intent; for English Johnny raised two huge fists in front of the young man’s eyes.
“What’s the idea?” asked Harry, keeping up his bluff.
“You’ll find out quick enough. I’m going to knock that mug of yours out of shape. It’ll look blame funny when I get through.”
“You’ll be letting yourself in for a lot of trouble if you do.”
“Hear that?” demanded English Johnny of the gang. “Hear him threaten me? I’ve got a right to sock him, ain’t I?”
There were seven men in the throng. Their words were all for English Johnny.
“We’ll stand with you. Hand him plenty!”
“I’ll take care of him when you’ve finished.”
Harry clenched his fists. He felt that he was the match of any one of the men, including the boastful English Johnny. But, against eight his chances were hopeless.
The two men behind the counter, clad in white coats and aprons, were leaning on their elbows watching the show with anticipation. Fights were usually taboo in lunch wagons, but English Johnny was boss, and if he wanted a battle, it was all right.
Harry took a bold course. A fight was unavoidable. He might as well start it and get in a few blows for himself, before they ganged him - as seemed likely.
“Get out of my way,” he ordered.
He placed his hand against English Johnny’s chest and thrust the man back.
“Hit me, will you?” exclaimed the proprietor of the lunch wagon. “Now I’ve got a right to clean you up. You started it. You witnessed it, boys.”
He swung his massive fist at Harry’s face. Harry parried the blow with his right hand, and struck out with his left. His sweeping hook would have landed against the side of English Johnny’s face, except that one of the bystanders, with an ugly laugh, reached out and blocked Harry’s blow.
The big man profited by this opportunity. He landed a short punch which sent Harry staggering against the window behind him. Seeing that he had jarred his opponent, English Johnny became suddenly confident.
“Leave him to me, boys,” he ordered.
Harry was slumped against the window, still gasping from the body blow against which he had had no opportunity to defend himself.
His huge antagonist was waiting, on the alert. As Harry began to straighten up, the big man poised his right fist for the finishing blow.
Then came an unexpected interruption.
One of the men behind the counter had left his place to join the crowd. Now he thrust his body between English Johnny and the big man’s victim.
The man who caused the interruption was of medium height; well built, and determined of expression. His face was swarthy; it almost seemed as though it might be covered with grease paint.
English Johnny surveyed the fellow in astonishment.
“What’s troubling you?” he demanded. “What are you butting in about?”
“Leave this guy alone,” the man replied, waving his hand toward Harry.
English Johnny turned to the other man behind the counter.
“Say, Bill,” he inquired. “Who is this fellow, anyway? I never saw him here before.”
“New man on tonight,” was the reply. “Pete was sick. This fellow happened to come in. Said he could do the
