Jimmie McGraw stood in the hall threatening an angry waiter with his clenched fists.

Although the boy was small, and no match for the waiter, he was exceedingly nimble, and the waiter was unable to lay hands on him.
"He's tryin' to throw me out," exclaimed Jimmie, grinning at sight of the boys.

"Tell him it is all right." "We are expecting the boy," Fremont said.

"Kindly let him alone." "I'm ordered to throw him out of the hotel," roared the waiter.

"He's a tramp." Fremont pacified the fellow with a silver offering and, drawing Jimmie inside of the room, closed the door.