Dan'l sat softly tuning his violin, as if uninterested in the controversy.

Uncle John and the Major looked on with seeming indifference.
"You must decide which you prefer--the revolvers or the dance," remarked Patsy, staring coolly into the ring of faces.
"Would your English ladies at home consent to dance with armed men ?" asked Beth.
"They're quite right, boys," said Stubby, nodding his bullethead.
"Let's agree to deposit all the shooting irons 'til the dance is over." "I won't!" cried Knuckles, his scowl deepening.
"By Jove, you will!" shouted Tobey, with unexpected vehemence.

"You're delaying the programme, old man, and it's a nuisance to dance in this armor, anyway.

Here--pile all your guns in this corner; every one of you, mind.

Then we shall all stand on an equal footing." "Put them on the table there, by the old fiddler," said Patsy; "then we will know we are perfectly safe." Rather unwillingly they complied, each man walking up to the table and placing his revolver at Dan'l's feet.