“I’m going to count ten,” said Carmel. “If you haven’t gone then I’ll shoot.”
“Li’l’ girl kin count to ten,” said the same voice. “Hain’t eddication hell!”
“One,” she began, “two, three, four——”
There was a forward movement, raucous laughter, inebriated comments. She hastened her counting—“five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten....” They were still moving forward slowly, evidently viewing the situation as humorous. She lifted the heavy gun and pointed its muzzle at the mass of approaching legs.... Her acquaintance with twelve-gauge automatic shotguns, and with the dispositions thereof, was rudimentary. She did not know what to expect, nevertheless she tugged at the trigger. There was a tremendous report which frightened her as nothing had frightened her that night. She felt as if one of those men had thrown his sledge and struck her shoulder. Dazed, bewildered, she all but lost her balance.
But, steadying herself, keeping her finger on the trigger, she maintained a readiness for what might come next. Howls of agony emanated from the men. Two of them were rolling on the sidewalk clutching shins and cursing. But for this there was silence. Humor had departed from the situation, for even the smallest bird shot, discharged from a shotgun at less than a hundred feet, are not to be disregarded by those who shun pain.
“She’s shot my leg off.... My Gawd!...”
This exclamation of agony trailed off into curses and incoherent ejaculations.
“Now go away,” Carmel called. “Next time I’ll shoot higher.”
The shot, the suddenness, the unexpectedness of it, had cleared tipsy brains. It had created angry, dangerous men.
“’Tain’t nothin’ but bird shot. All rush her to wunst,” shouted a voice. But before they could resolve into action Carmel fired again, and then again.... It was rather more than such a collection of humanity could endure. With shouts and cries of pain they broke and ran. Carmel advanced, ready for another discharge, when, suddenly, there was a diversion. The attackers were taken in the rear, by whom Carmel could not determine. She saw at least two men, arms swinging clubs right and left with rare indiscrimination. The retreat became a rout. These unexpected reserve forces definitely turned the tide of battle, and in a time so brief as to make its recording difficult, the street was again deserted save for Carmel—and the reserves.