Koster and Jupp could look after the workshop quite well alone, until work came again.
I stuffed my pockets with change, took my papers, and cruised slowly along the streets to look out a good stand for myself.
This felt a bit queer the first time.
Any fool could stop me and give me orders.
Not a specially grand feeling. Slipped down a bit once more. I don't quite know why I should have made more of it this time than before. Still, perhaps it wasn't forever—and anyway a sight better than in an office, letting yourself be bullied by some liverish head clerk until you seized the ledger and flung it at him and got the sack.
I selected a place where there were only five cars standing.
It was opposite the Waldecker Hof Hotel in the centre of the business quarter.
There one might hope for quick business.
I turned off the engine and got out.
From one of the front cars a big fellow in a leather coat came toward me.
"Clear out of this," he growled.
I looked at him calmly and calculated that it had better be an uppercut if necessary.
His coat would prevent him getting his mitts up quickly enough.
"You've no cap?" he persisted, spitting the butt of his cigarette at my feet. "You'd better clear out.
Enough here.
Don't want any more."
He was annoyed at the addition, that was clear; but it was my right to stand here if I would.
"I don't mind standing a few rounds' entrance," said I.
That would have ended the matter as far as I was concerned.
It was the usual way when one came new.
A young driver came up.
"All right, mate.
Let him alone, Gustav—" But there was something Gustav did not like about me. I knew what it was. He sensed that I was fresh on the job.
"I'll count up to three—" he announced.
He was a head taller than I and was counting on it.
I saw it was not much use talking.
Either I must go, or fight. It was too pointed.
"One," counted Gustav, unbuttoning his coat.
"Don't be silly," said I, trying once more. "Wouldn't you sooner feel a whisky sizzling in your throat?"
"Two—" growled Gustav.
I saw he meant to slaughter me properly.
"And one is—" He pushed his cap back on his head.
"Shut your mouth, fool!" I snapped suddenly.
Gustav opened his mouth in astonishment and came a step nearer. Exactly where I wanted to have him.
I let fly at once—a blow like a hammer, with the whole weight of my body behind it.
Koster had taught it to me.
I was not much of a boxer; I considered it unnecessary—it was usually a matter of the first blow.
This was a good one.
Gustav dropped in his tracks.
"Won't do him any harm," said the young driver. "He's always spoiling for it." We put him back on the box of his cab. "He'll come round shortly."
I was a bit perturbed, for I had put my thumb out with the blow.
When Gustav waked up he would be able to do what he liked with me.
I told the young fellow and asked if I had not better hop it.
"Nonsense," said he, "the thing is settled.
Come over into the pub and stand your entrance fee.
You're not a trained cabman, eh?"
"No."
"Neither am I.
I'm an actor."
"And you make a go of it?"