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Elizabeth Compton rose.
"You will oblige me," she said, "by leaving our table."
Steve Murray laughed uproariously. He had dropped into a chair next to hers.
"
That's great!" he cried. "I guess you don't know who I am, kiddo. You won't cop
off anything better in this joint than Steve Murray. Come on--let's be friends.
That's a good girl," and before Elizabeth realized the man's intentions he had
seized her wrist and pulled her down into his lap.
It was this scene that broke upon Jimmy's view as he emerged from the kitchen
with a laden tray. He saw Steve Murray seize the girl, and he saw her struggling
to free herself, and then there was a mighty crash as Jimmy dropped the tray of
steaming food upon the floor and ran quickly forward.
Murray was endeavoring to draw the girl's lips to his as Jimmy's hand shot
between their faces and pushed that of the man away. With his free arm he
encircled the girl's body and attempted to draw her from her assailant.
"Cut it, Murray!" he commanded in a low tone of voice. "She isn't your sort."
"Who the hell are you?" cried the labor leader, releasing the girl and rising to his
feet. "Get the hell out of here, you dirty hash-slinger! Any girl in this place
belongs to me if I want her. There don't only one kind come in here without an
escort, or with one, either, for that matter. You get back on your job, where you
belong," and the man pressed forward trying to push Jimmy aside and lay hands
on Elizabeth again.
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