He said nothing, even though it was not raining. Taking advantage of his embarrassed position, Jonathan and his assistant rushed upon him, and disarmed him. Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air. By the time John returned with popcorn and a large Coke, the theater had filled up with high-school kids. At least I rather hoped I might spend my time chasing smugglers, which would have afforded some excitement. There were no mourners.
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