"Nary a drop, lieutenant."
"So this bird takes off his hat and shows feathers. The crowd laughs and he gets mad. Then what?"
"Well, he tossed the bartender through the plate glass window, clipped McCarthy on the button and tossed him across the bar and wrecked about fifteen hundred dollars worth of fine Irish whiskey. Then he sort of picked up Eddy, the bouncer, and hit Pete, the waiter, with him. Then, having started and finished his own riot, the guy takes his drink, downs it, and stamps out, slamming the door hard enough to break the glass."
"Some character," glowed McDowell, admiringly. "But what am I supposed to do?"
"McCarthy wants to swear out a warrant for the guy. But before we do, I want to know more about this whole thing. First off, what's a man doing wearing feathers instead of honest hair?"
"Ask him," grunted McDowell.
"Shall I issue the warrant?"