DAR. By heaven, he’ll punch my eye out!
1st ROY. (wavering in drunkenness.) It’s what I think myself. I can’t find his damned mouth!
STRAN. Unstop the bottle! (1st Roysterer unstops the bottle; pours contents into Darblee’s face, aiming all the time for his mouth. Darblee kicks, sputters and squirms.)
DAR. Help! (enter Lafitte; he knocks the Stranger aside, scatters the Roysterers and laughingly picks up Darblee.)
LAF. (laughing.) What is it? A secret society function?
DAR. High noon robbery and assault. That’s what it is;—a demand for drinks without pay. (wipes his face.)
2nd ROY. (to Lafitte.) Who are you?
STRAN. You think because you take us unaware—
LAF. How about now? (draws; exeunt Roysterers.)
DAR. (pointing to Stranger and laying a cautious hand on Lafitte’s arm.) He’s a priest.