"'Keep your hat on, Butch,' she says, 'all I want to do is to give him some motherly advice.'
"'If you're acting that part,' says Bard, calm as you please, 'I've got to tell mother that she's been keeping some pretty bad company.'
"'Some what?' bellers Butch, not believin' his ears.
"And young Bard, he steps around the girl and stands over Butch.
"'Bad company is what I said,' he repeats, 'but maybe I can be convinced.'
"'Easy,' says Butch, and reaches for his gun.
"We all dived for the door, but me being held up on account of my missing leg, I was slow an' couldn't help seein' what happened. Butch was fast, but the young feller was faster. He had Butch by the wrist before the gun came clear—just gave a little twist—and there he stood with the gun in his hand pointin' into Butch's face, and Butch sittin' there like a feller in a trance or wakin' up out of a bad dream.
"Then he gets up, slow and dignified, though he had enough liquor in him to float a ship.
"'I been mobbed,' he says, 'it's easy to see that. I come here peaceful and quiet, and here I been mobbed. But I'm comin' back, boys, and I ain't comin' alone.'
"There was our chance to get him, while he was walking out of that place without a gun, but somehow nobody moved for him. He didn't look none too easy, even without his shootin' irons. Out he goes into the night, and we stood around starin' at each other. Everybody was upset, except Sally and Bard.