"You are still wearing your firearms," she replied. "I cannot and will not dance with a man who carries a revolver."
"That's nothing," he retorted. "We always do."
"Always?"
"Of course. And if I shed my gun what's to prevent some one else getting the drop on me?"
"That's it," said Patsy, firmly. "The weapons must all be surrendered before we begin. We positively refuse to dance if rioting and shooting are likely to occur."
A murmur of protest arose at this speech, for all the remittance men had gathered around to listen to the argument.
"That's all tommy-rot," observed Handsome Tim, in a sulky tone. "We're not spoiling for a row; it's the dance we're after."
"Then give up the revolvers," said Beth, coming to her cousin's assistance. "If this is to be a peaceful entertainment you will not need to be armed, and it is absurd to suppose a lady will dance with a gentleman who is a walking arsenal."
They looked into one another's faces uncertainly. Dan'l sat softly tuning his violin, as if uninterested in the controversy. Uncle John and the Major looked on with seeming indifference.
"You must decide which you prefer—the revolvers or the dance," remarked Patsy, staring coolly into the ring of faces.