“All right, pard,” he said, good-naturedly; “there is one thing in the house I want.”
“Name it.”
“I want every man jack of you to wet up. The drinks are on me, gents. Step lively.”
For an instant nobody stirred.
They looked at him as if they could not believe their ears.
Those who had crouched behind the bar gradually began to poke their heads above it.
Naturally, Serpent Sam was the first to move.
Leaving his revolvers where they were on the floor, he strode to Patsy with his hand outstretched.
“Put it there, pard,” he cried; “you’re a white man an’ no mistake. I see I don’t need to ’pologize fer trying to hev some fun with yer.”