aught the tall
cattleman by the forearm, and, with a swift, dexterous twist, had the
fellow in his power.

"Down--down to your knees, you skunk!" he said, in a low, fierce voice.

The knees of the big man bent--Foyle had not taken lessons of Ogami, the
Jap, for nothing--they bent, and the cattleman squealed, so intense was
the pain. It was break or bend; and he bent--to the ground and lay there.
Foyle stood over him for a moment, a hard light in his eyes, and then, as
if bethinking himself, he looked at the other roisterers and said:

"There's a limit, and he reached it. Your mouths are your own, and you can
blow off to suit your fancy, but if any one thinks I'm a tame coyote to be
poked with a stick--!" He broke off, stooped over, and helped the man
before him to his feet. The arm had been strained, and the big fellow
nursed it.

"Hell, but you're a twister!" the cattleman said, with a grimace of pain.

Billy Goat was a gentleman, after his kind, and he liked Sergeant Foyle
with a great liking. He turned to the crowd and spoke.

"Say, boys, this mine's worked out. Let's leave the Happy Land to Foyle.
Boys, what is he--what--is--he? What--is--Sergeant Foyle--boys?"

The roar of the song they all knew came in reply, as Billy Goat waved his
arms about like the wild leader of a wild orchestra:

"Sergeant Foyle, oh, he's a knocker from the West,
He's a chase-me-Charley, come-and-kiss-me tiger from the zoo;
He's a dandy on the pinch, and he's got a double cinch
On the gent that's going careless, and he'll soon cinch you:
And he'll soon--and he'll soon--cinch you!"

Foyle watched them go, dancing, stumbling, calling back at him, as they
moved toward the Prairie Home Hotel:

"And he'll soon--and he'll soon--cinch you!"

His under-lip came out, his eyes half closed, as he watched them. "I've
done my last cinch. I've done my last cinch," he murmured.

Then, suddenly, the look in his face changed, the eyes swam as they had
done a minute before at the sight of the girl in the room behind. Whatever
his trouble was, that face had obscured it in a flash, and the pools of
feeling far down in the depths of a lonely nature had been stirred.
Recognition, memory, tenderness, desire swam in his face, made generous
and kind the hard lines of the strong mouth. In an instant he had swung
himself over the window-sill. The girl had drawn away now into a more
shaded corner of the room, and she