ad into pulp when I've done with this little job!"

The bully knew in precisely thirty seconds what had happened to him. So
did the crowds who pressed back into the place through the inner
door. So did the barman. So did the landlord, who had made a cautious
appearance through a trapdoor. Billy the Tanner, for the first time
in his life, was fighting a better man. For two years he had been the
terror of the neighbourhood, and he showed now that at least he had
courage. His smattering of science, however, appeared only ridiculous.
Once, through sheer strength and blundering force, he broke down his
opponent's guard and struck him in the place that had dispatched many a
man before--just over the heart. His present opponent scarcely winced,
and Billy the Tanner paid the penalty then for his years of bullying.
His antagonist paused for a single second, as though unnerved by the
blow. Red fire seemed to stream from his eyes. Then it was all over.
With a sickening crash, Billy the Tanner went down upon the sanded
floor. It was no matter of a count for him. He lay there like a dead
man, and from the two doors the hidden spectators streamed into the
room. Sir Timothy laid some money upon the table.

"This fellow insulted me and my friend," he said. "You see, he has paid
the penalty. If he misbehaves again, the same thing will happen to him.
I am leaving some money here with your barman. I shall be glad for every
one to drink with me. Presently, perhaps, you had better send for an
ambulance or a doctor."

A little storm of enthusiastic excitement, evidenced for the most part
in expletives of a lurid note, covered the retreat of Sir Timothy and
his companion. Out in the street a small crowd was rushing towards the
place. A couple of policemen seemed to be trying to make up their minds
whether it was a fine night. An inspector hurried up to them.

"What's doing in 'The Rising Sun'?" he demanded sharply.

"Some one's giving Billy the Tanner a hiding," one of the policemen
replied.

"Honest?"

"A fair, ripe, knock-out hiding," was the emphatic confirmation. "I
looked in at the window."

The inspector grinned.

"I'm glad you had the sense not to interfere," he remarked.

Sir Timothy and his companion reached the car. The latter took a seat by
the chauffeur. Sir Timothy stepped in. It struck him that Lady Cynthia
was a little breathless. Her eyes, too, were marvellously bright.
Wrapped around her knees was the chauffeur's