your partners, boys. Look sharp, there, Dan'l, and give us a martial
tune that will lift our feet."

Dan'l meekly set the violin underneath his chin and raised the bow as
if in readiness. "Knuckles," a brawny fellow with a florid face and a
peculiar squint, approached Patsy and bowed.

"You're to lead with me, Miss," he said. "Are you ready?"

"Not quite," she returned with dignified composure; "for I perceive
you are not quite ready yourself."

"Eh? Why not?" he inquired, surprised.

"You are still wearing your firearms," she replied. "I cannot and will
not dance with a man who carries a revolver."

"That's nothing," he retorted. "We always do."

"Always?"

"Of course. And if I shed my gun what's to prevent some one else
getting the drop on me?"

"That's it," said Patsy, firmly. "The weapons must all be surrendered
before we begin. We positively refuse to dance if rioting and shooting
are likely to occur."

A murmur of protest arose at this speech, for all the remittance men
had gathered around to listen to the argument.