"Back up, Algy, and give your betters a chance. You're out of it, old man."
"I have no betters," he retorted. Then, turning to the girls again and ignoring the presence of the men accompanying them, he continued:
"Beauteous visions, since you have wilfully invaded the territory of Hades Ranch, of which diabolical domain I, Algernon Tobey, am by grace of his Satanic majesty the master, I invite you to become my guests and participate in a grand ball which I shall give this evening in your honor."
His comrades laughed again, and one of them shouted:
"Good for you, Algy. A dance—that's the thing!"
"Why, we haven't had the chance of a dance for ages," said another approvingly.
"Because we have had no ladies to dance with," explained Algy. "But here are three come to our rescue—perhaps more, if I could see inside that barricade—and they cannot refuse us the pleasure of their society."
"Sir," said Major Doyle, stiffly, "you are pleased to be impertinent.
Ride on, you rascals, and spare us further sight of you."
The man turned upon him a scowling face.
"Don't interfere," he said warningly. "This isn't your party, you old duffer!"