He disappeared behind a swinging door with the professional skill of a stage magician.
Sitting around the dilapidated wooden tables was a motley throng of red-nosed women, loafers, heavy-jowled young aliens, and a scattering of young girls attired in cheap finery; a prevailing color of chemical yellow as to hair, and flaming red cheeks and lips.
Instinctively the gathering rose for escape, but the sergeant strode forward to one particular table, where sat a girl nursing a bleeding mouth.
Burke remained by the door to shut off that exit.
"Is this the one?" asked the sergeant, as he put his hands on the young woman's shoulder.
Burke scrutinized her closely, responding quickly.
"Yes!"
"Come on, you," ordered the roundsman. "I want you. Quick!"
"Say, I ain't done a thing, what do ye want me fer?" whined the girl, as the sergeant pulled at her sleeve. The officer did not reply, but he looked menacingly about him at the evil company.
"If any of you guys starts anything I'm going to call out the reserves. Come on, Annie."