It hurt sharply and angered him more than he had been any time since morning.
"The little cur!" he muttered.
"Hurt you ?" asked one of the policemen.
"No," he answered.
At one of the corners, where the car slowed up because of a turn, an ex-motorman, standing on the sidewalk, called to him: "Won't you come out, pardner, and be a man?
Remember we're fighting for decent day's wages, that's all.

We've got families to support." The man seemed most peaceably inclined.
Hurstwood pretended not to see him.

He kept his eyes straight on before and opened the lever wide.

The voice had something appealing in it.
All morning this went on and long into the afternoon.

He made three such trips.