"We're goin' aout o' business right now! I ain't in no prayin' mood terday—though I thank the good Lord he's shown me my duty an' has give me stren'th ter do it!"
On the wall, in a "fire protection" frame, was coiled a length of hose, with a red painted pail and an axe. Marm turned to this and snatched down the axe from its hooks.
"Why, Marm!" exploded Lem, trying to get in front of her.
"Stand out o' my way, Lem Parraday!" She commanded, with firm voice and unfaltering mien.
"Yeou air crazy!" shrieked the tavern keeper, dancing between her and the barroom door.
"Not as crazy as I was," she returned grimly.
She thrust him aside as though he were a child and strode into the barroom. Her appearance offered quite as much excitement to the loafers on this occasion as it had the day of the tempest. Only they shrank from her with good reason now, as she flourished the axe.
"Git aout of here, the hull on ye!" ordered the stern woman. "Ye have had the last drink in this place as long as Lem Parraday and me keeps it. Git aout!"
She started around behind the bar. Joe Bodley, smiling cheerfully, advanced to meet her.
"Now, Marm! You know this ain't no way to act," he said soothingly.
"This ain't no place for ladies, anyway. Women's place is in the home.
This here——"