But Dowley, who had not believed that the "kid soldier" would dare fire, dropped to the floor.
"Get up," commanded Hal, eyeing him closely.
"I'll suit myself," snarled the man on the floor.
The firing had been plainly heard in the outer room.
Two or three of the weaker-nerved patrons out there promptly made a break for the street. None ventured into that inner room. Corporal Minturn and his companions must now take care of themselves.
But this, in their present ugly mood, they seemed quite able to do.
"Don't act like a fool, Dowley," rasped Hal impatiently. "The detachment is strong enough to take you back, man, and you'll have to go back in irons if you attempt to stir up trouble. Get up!"
"Not to please you, though!" growled Dowley, as he leaped to his feet.
He still retained his grip on the bludgeon.
"Drop that club," ordered Hal sternly.