"When I say a thing I mean it," shouted Braddock, turning to the stupefied crowd. "He can't hold a jubilee in this here animal tent. Who owns this show, anyway?"
He drew back his foot to kick the prostrate boy. Half a dozen women screamed in terror.
"Don't do that, Braddock!" cried a level voice in his ear.
He whirled to face Colonel Bob Grand.
"If you kick that boy I'll shoot you," said the Colonel almost impassively.
"Do I own this show or not?" was all that Braddock could howl.
"Get him out of here," said Grand, turning to the angry circle of men. "Sober him up or turn him over to the police."
"What!" choked out Tom Braddock, his eyes bulging. "You say this to me!"
"See here, Braddock, I kept your wife and daughter outside. They didn't see this cowardly trick of yours. You may have to explain to them why you did it. You can't explain to the rest of these people. We don't like brutes."
A dozen men crowded forward with threatening mien. Tom Braddock shrank back in mortal terror.