"Any more of you try to mix it up with me and I'll put you all down for
the count."
"Oh, Sadie, Sadie," cried Mrs. Thomas, running down the hall toward her
friend, "it do beat the dogs how you act. These gentlemen'll think
you're no lady. Do behave more refined."
But Mrs. Nitschkan paid no heed to her pleadings. "Who's this Jose
you're all talking about?" she cried. "I know Pedro, but no Jose."
Then she wasted no more breath in words, but gave herself strictly to
the business of the moment, prolonging the straggle far beyond the
patience of the sheriff and his men. But ultimately numbers prevailed,
and, although she resisted to the last moment, giving no quarter and
asking none, she was finally landed outside and the door locked upon
her.
Swearing volubly, the sheriff turned his attention to that far end of
the hall where the deputies who had not been engaged in the struggle
with Mrs. Nitschkan stood guard over Gallito and Flick, who had ranged
themselves before the crimson curtain of Pearl's dressing room. Two men,
three, counting Jose behind the curtain, against at least twenty!
Hanson, from the back of the hall, yielded to his inclination to laugh.
"They lined up just as I expected," muttered the sheriff as he advanced
down the room, "and it's a lot of good it's going to do them. Say," he
called to Flick and Gallito, "it ain't no use drawing your guns, boys. I
guess you two old hands got sense enough to see that. So all you got to
do is to hand over the prisoner.
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