He made as if he would empty all his cartridges at the men’s feet, but he had done enough.
All except Serpent Sam were making a wild scramble to get behind the bar, out of doors, underneath tables—any place, so as to be out of range.
Sam had cooled down very suddenly.
“Hold on, stranger,” he called; “we uns know when we’re licked. You’ve done us brown, an’ ef thar’s anything in the house you want, call for it.”
Patsy understood the man.
His tone and manner showed that he meant what he said.
He was rubbing his sore hand and kicking his revolvers so that they would lie where he could pick them up.
Of all the men there Sam was the only one who hadn’t shown fear.
The detective immediately pocketed his weapon.