“It might go off,” he remarked. “It’s got a hair trigger. Look out!”
At that his weapon did go off.
One of the men was just getting the drop on him.
Patsy’s shot did for him just what had been done for Serpent Sam.
It knocked the gun out of his hand and caused him to leap back, cursing with rage.
“If you gents enjoy dancing,” said Patsy, coolly, “just recollect that I’m floor manager here. I’ll tell you when it’s your turn—yours, for instance.”
With this he let drive at the feet of a man near the edge of the crowd.
The bullets splintered the floor at the man’s toe.
He jumped for fear, and the detective laughed.
“It’s more fun than I thought,” he cried; “we’ll try it again.”