He held out his hand, and Chepstow promptly gripped it. He also shook the other by the hand.
"Now, boys," he said genially, "how about those others outside? How will you guarantee them?"
"We'll fix that quick. Say, Mike, just open that door." Canfield turned again to Chepstow, while Mike obeyed orders. "I'll give 'em a few words," he went on, "an' we'll send right off for Walford. He's mighty bad, passon. He's——"
The door was open by this time, and the two men hurried out. Chepstow secured it behind them, and stood listening for what was to happen. He heard Canfield haranguing the crowd, and his words seemed to have the desired effect, for presently the whole lot began to move off, and in two minutes the last sound of voices and receding footsteps had died out. Betty drew a sigh of relief.
"Uncle," she said, smiling affectionately across at him as he left the door and came toward the stove, "you are a genius of diplomacy."
The man laughed self-consciously.
"Well, we have gained a point," he said doubtfully.
Betty let her eyes fall upon her sewing again.
"Yes, we have gained a point. I wonder how long that point will hold good, when—when the drink begins to flow."
"That's what I'm wondering."