.... The young man exhibited his knuckles, which were skinned
and bleeding, as evidence of some exchange; but, he averred, you might
as well be punching a sack of coal as that man's face. In another
minute they both slipped and rolled over and over in the road, hitting
and kicking as they sprawled: then a crowd of people ran forward and
pulled them asunder. When they were separated he saw the big man lift
his fist, and the person who was holding him ducked suddenly and ran
for his life: the other folk got out of the way too, and the big man
walked over to where he stood and stared into his face. His jaw was
stuck out like the seat of a chair and his moustache was like a
bristle of barbed wire. The young man said to him, "What the hell's
wrong with you to go bashing a man for nothing at all?" and all of a
sudden the big fellow turned and walked away. It was a grand fight
altogether, said the youth, but the other man was a mile and a half
too big for him.

As this story proceeded Mrs. Makebelieve looked once or twice at her
daughter. Mary's face had gone very pale, and she nodded back a
confirmation of her mother's conjecture; but it did not seem necessary
or wise to either of them that they should explain their thoughts. The
young man did not require either condolences or revenge. He was well
pleased at an opportunity to measure his hardihood against a worthy
opponent. He had found that his courage exceeded his strength, as it
always should, for how could we face the gods and demons of existence
if our puny arms were not backed up by our invincible eyes? and he
displayed his contentment at the issue as one does a banner emblazoned
with merits. Mrs. Makebelieve understood also that the big man's
action was merely his energetic surrender, as of one who, instead of
tendering his sword courteously to the victor, hurls it at him with a
malediction; and that in assaulting their friend he was bidding them
farewell as heartily and impressively as he was able. So they fed the
young man and extolled him, applauding to the shrill winding of his
trumpet until he glowed again in the full satisfaction of heroism.

He and Mary did not discontinue their evening walks. Of these Mrs.
Makebelieve was fully cognizant, and, although she did not remark on
the fact, she had been observing the growth of their intimacy with a
care which was one part approval and one part pain; for it was very
evident to her that her daughter was no longer a chi