"Sorry," Toffee said, leaping lightly up beside him and snatching up the gavel. "This is total war!"
Marc gaining the bench, turned his attention to Julie. "Please, dear!" he cried. "There's nothing to be sore about!"
"Oh, isn't there?" Julie gritted. "What about that naked little trull you're with?" She hefted the bag anew.
"Let me at him!" the enraged butcher bellowed from the flank. "I'll get him if I have to hack that bench away around him!"
In answer, Toffee brandished the gavel in a wide gesture of defiance which terminated solidly on the side of the judge's nose.
"Ouch!" the judge roared, grabbing his face with both hands. "Clear the court!"
"Hell!" the butcher yelled. "I'm going to smear the court with that lousy kidnapper!"
The siege of the bench raged, and it will always be a sterling testimony to Julie's physical prowess that as she scaled the bench, the lethal handbag never once ceased to twirl over her head; if it happened to strike the judge more often than anyone else it was only because her aim was deflected by her overwrought emotions. To Marc and Toffee, however, the real menace lay in the butcher and his cleaver. Only by the most adroit maneuverings with the gavel was Toffee able to delay his murderous progress with a few strategic licks on the shins.
The doctors, on the other hand, gave themselves over more to calculated strategy. While two of them tried to close in on Marc from the sides, the chloroformist, can and sponge held ready, crept up from the rear. They might have succeeded in this maneuver except for Toffee. The redhead, seeing that time and speed were of the essence, abandoned her attack on the butcher and sailed forward, the gavel raised in one hand, the gadget in the other. Her plan was to dispatch the flankers with a single action, then sweep on to overcome the third doctor with all dispatch. The strategy, however, was too hastily conceived to be really successful.