The fact that Mallory was a soldier occurred to a number of the passengers simultaneously. They had been trained by early studies in those beautiful works of fiction, the school histories of the United States, and by many Fourths of July, to believe that the American soldier is an invincible being, who has never been defeated and never known fear.
They surged up to Mallory in a wave of hope. Dr. Temple, being nearest, spoke first. Having learned by experience that his own prayers were not always answered as he wished, had an impulse to try some weapon he had never used.
"Young man," he pleaded across the back of a seat, "will you kindly lend me a gun?"
Mallory answered sullenly: "Mine is in my trunk on the train ahead, damn it. If I had it I'd have a lot of fun."
Mrs. Whitcomb had an inspiration. She ran to her berth, and came back with a tiny silver-plated revolver.
"I'll lend you this. Sammy gave it to me to protect myself in Nevada!"
Mallory smiled at the .22-calibre toy, broke it open, and displayed an empty cylinder.
"Where are the pills that go with it?" he said.
"Oh, Sammy wouldn't let me have any bullets. He was afraid I'd hurt myself."
Mallory returned it, with a bow. "It would make an excellent nut-cracker."