Legs and Toddy had reached the curbing, and, not seeing it, they tumbled over into the sand-covered street. As they picked themselves up, they sang lowly:
"You made me what I am today,
So I guess you're satisfied."
On toward the house they now came, singing at intervals. Presently they stepped upon the porch, and rattled the knob. The door was always kept locked during such proceedings. From the lower end of town, a rooster crowed long and loud; while, at the same moment, a clock from some remote tower struck two. The dice tumbled onward to their fatal end, and Legs kicked the door a bang.
In the still night, it sounded like the discharge of a cannon.
Then here came a lull. All became so quiet that the ticking of a clock upon the mantel sounded like the pounding of a hammer. Faces turned about and eyes looked into each other. They were all colors and a sight to see. The little Negro, coolest all the while, eased the money into his jeans, as the others cried all at once:
"The bulls!"
And now began the scramble, and it was a mighty one.
Under the table went many, whereupon it turned over, and revealed them all wiggling like so many eels. To the room containing the refrigerator, went a half dozen others and closed the door. John Moore stood in the center of the room where he had been deserted by the others, his knees hitting together with a sound like rocks. Cold fear, for he was an awful coward, held him like a vise. Into the closets; into Murphy's bedroom went some more, and piled in a hurry into the bed, whereupon it gave way with a loud crash, mixing many in a nasty, smothered mass, where they tried to extricate themselves with much difficulty.
And, in the meantime, the kicking continued. "Let me in! Let me in! What in Hell!" cried Legs, and it was punctuated with a piping from Tom Toddy.
"Yes,"—he was very proper—"open up! Open up! This is a He-ll uv a way to treat two gentlemen!"