As the explanation began to spread over the crowd—not in whispers, but in shouts, mingled with roars of laughter—those who had been instructed beforehand pressed round old Frosty and the Signorina in a dense mass.
Threats, complaints, demands, all sorts of outcries filled the air.
"You old fakir!"
"What do you mean by it, Frosty?"
"Do you think you're a-goin' to run a blazer like this on us, and we'll swaller hit like hit was catnip tea?"
"What fer did ye want to fool us thataway?"
"We ain't a-goin' to stand it—we'll——"
"Gentlemen, jest be quiet. Let me out—let me git across the street to the Wagon-Tire—where my daughter is—and I can explain things."
"Explain nothin'!" was the cry; "you'll explain right here! Do you think Blowout is a-goin' to stand this kind o' thing?"
"Who put you up to run this blazer on us? Them fellers at Plain View? Er them scrubs at Cinche? This town ain't a-goin' to stand it!"