"He can't hold a jubilee in this here animal tent.
Who owns this show, anyway?"
He drew back his foot to kick the prostrate boy. Half a dozen women
screamed in terror.
"Don't do that, Braddock!" cried a level voice in his ear.
He whirled to face Colonel Bob Grand.
"If you kick that boy I'll shoot you," said the Colonel almost
impassively.
"Do I own this show or not?" was all that Braddock could howl.
"Get him out of here," said Grand, turning to the angry circle of men.
"Sober him up or turn him over to the police."
"What!" choked out Tom Braddock, his eyes bulging. "You say this to
me!"
"See here, Braddock, I kept your wife and daughter outside. They
didn't see this cowardly trick of yours. You may have to explain to
them why you did it. You can't explain to the rest of these people. We
don't like brutes."
A dozen men crowded forward with threatening mien. Tom Braddock shrank
back in mortal terror.
"Don't jump on me, boys--don't! I--I'll go out. I'll go peaceable. Let
me get out where there's air. I must have been crazy."
He almost ran to the sidewall and crept into the open air.
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