was occupied by a scattering of people, for the busy time of the day
had not yet commenced and Pale Annie was merely idling behind the
bar--working at half-speed, as it were. To this group Black Bart paid
not the slightest heed but glided smoothly down the centre of the long
room until he approached the tables at the end, where, in a corner, sat
a squat, thick-chested man, and opposite him the most cadaverously lean
fellow that Whistling Dan had ever seen. Before these two Black Bart
paused and then cast a glance over his shoulder towards the master;
Whistling Dan frowned in wonder; he knew neither of the pair.

But Black Bart apparently did. He slouched a pace closer, crouched, and
bared his fangs with a tremendous snarl. At this the lean man left his
chair and sprang back to a distance. Terror convulsed his face; but his
eyes glittered with a fascinated interest and he glanced first at his
companion and then at the great wolf-dog, as if he were making a
comparison between them. It was the broad shouldered man who first
spoke.

"Partner," he said in a thick voice, in which the articulation was
almost lost, "maybe you better take your dog out before he gets hurt. He
don't like me and I don't like him none too much."

"Bart!" called Dan Barry.

But Black Bart gave no heed. There had been a slight flexing of his
muscles as he crouched, and now he leaped--a black bolt of fighting
weight--squarely in the face of the giant. He was met and checked midway
in his spring. For the two long arms darted out, two great hands
fastened in the throat of the beast, and Black Bart fell back upon the
floor, with Mac Strann following, his grip never broken by the fall.

A scurry of many feet running towards the scene; a shouting of twenty
voices around him; but all that Whistling Dan saw were the fangs of Bart
as they gnashed fruitlessly at the wrists of Mac Strann, and then the
great red tongue lolling out and the eyes bulging from their
sockets--all he heard was the snarling of the wolf and the peculiar
whine of rage which came from the throat of the man-beast fighting the
wolf. Then he acted. His hands darted between the thick forearms of Mac
Strann--his elbows jerked out and snapped the grip; next he dragged
Black Bart away from the danger.

The wolf was instantly on his feet and lunging again, but a sharp
"Heel!" from Dan checked him mid-leap. He came to a shuddering halt
behind the legs of his master. Whistling Dan slipped a l