"They are not our friends——" wailed Mrs. Thompson, who was evidently not equal to this phase of the situation.
"Mother, hush! Don't be a coward! And don't lie! What if they are? We have a right to do as we please. Have what friends we wish. You coward, to threaten women!" she suddenly flashed out at Herbert. "But, pshaw! I'm not afraid of you. And I am going out that door! We all are! This is our house! Stand aside! Do you hear?"
Herbert merely shook his head.
"I'm going out, I tell you! You won't dare to shoot! Poof! I'm not afraid of you, I guess! You would not dare to threaten men this way! But women—oh, you think you're very safe! Come, let me pass!"
"Look here, Miss Thompson, if you think I like this business, you get another think. But I know my duty just the same. And, honestly, you won't look half as nice laid out in a coffin, not even with a million flowers, as you do now. So don't tempt me to use this gun, for I will if you get gay!"
"I dare you!" the girl shouted.
"Well, if you really want to see how it feels to have a bullet go plowing through your anatomy, just make a dive for that doorway. Go ahead and try it." With a hand that wavered not in the least he leveled the pistol barrel straight at her. For one moment the girl stood irresolute, bravely weighing the chances. Then a wail from her mother and a cry of alarm from one of the other girls who thought she was going to start checked her. She stepped back and sank into a chair.
There came the opening and slamming of the front door, heavy footfalls, and Captain Leighton, with a sergeant and two men, entered the room, saluting.
In twenty minutes the captain had heard Herbert's story, listened to Rose Thompson's impassioned admissions and Mrs. Thompson's weak effort at defense, and had disposed of the matter.