"I'll show Marcus Schouler--I'll show him--I'll----" He got up and clapped on his hat.
"Now, Doctor," remonstrated Heise, standing between him and the door, "don't go make a fool of yourself." "Let 'um alone," joined in Frenna, catching the dentist by the arm; "he's full, anyhow." "He broke my pipe," answered McTeague.
It was this that had roused him.

The thrown knife, the attempt on his life, was beyond his solution; but the breaking of his pipe he understood clearly enough.
"I'll show him," he exclaimed.
As though they had been little children, McTeague set Frenna and the harness-maker aside, and strode out at the door like a raging elephant.
Heise stood rubbing his shoulder.
"Might as well try to stop a locomotive," he muttered.

"The man's made of iron." Meanwhile, McTeague went storming up the street toward the flat, wagging his head and grumbling to himself.

Ah, Marcus would break his pipe, would he?
Ah, he was a zinc-plugger, was he?
He'd show Marcus Schouler.
No one should make small of him.

He tramped up the stairs to Marcus's room.