self and gave an abundance of orders.

"Are you William Kenna?" said the first of the strangers.

"I am that," said he.

"Then I arrest you in the Queen's name"; and the officer held up a paper
while the other produced a pair of handcuffs.

"Oi'd like to see ye put them on me." And the flood of fight in him
surged up.

He was covered by two big revolvers now, which argument had no whit of
power to modify his mood; but another factor had. The Widow who had
entered in search of Jim and knew the tragedy that hung by a hair, sped
to his side: "Now, Bill, don't ye do it! I forbid ye to do it!"

"If they try to put them on me, I'll kill or be killed. If they jist act
dacent, I'll go quiet."

"Will ye give yer word, Bill?"

"I will, Kitty; I'll give me word as a mahn. I'll go peaceable if they
don't try to handcuff me."

"There," said Kitty to the officers. "He's give his word; and if you're
wise, ye'll take him at that."

"All right," said the chief constable, and between them William moved to
the door.

"Say, Bill, ye ain't going to be took?" piped little Jim. He had watched
the scene dumbfounded from his place on the table. This was too much.

"Yes," said Bill, "I've give me word as a mahn," and he marched away,
while the Widow fled sobbing to her room.

That was the end of Kenna, so far as Jim was concerned. And, somehow,
that last sentence, "I've give me word as a mahn," kept ringing in Jim's
ears; it helped to offset the brutalizing effect of many other
episodes--that Fighting Bill should scoff at bonds and force, but be
bound and helpless by the little sound that issued from his own lips.

Bill's after life was brief. He was condemned to a year in jail for
deadly assault and served the term and came again to Petersburg. There
in a bar-room he encountered Hall, the pal of Whisky Mason. A savage
word from Bill provoked the sneer, "You jail bird." Kenna sprang to
avenge the insult. Hall escaped behind the bar. Bill still pursued. Then
Hall drew a pistol and shot him dead; and, as the Courts held later,
shot justly, for a man may defend his life.

It was a large funeral that buried Bill, and it was openly and widely
said that nine out of ten were there merely to make sure that he was
dead and buried. The Widow Hartigan was chief mourner in the first
carriage. She and Jim led the line, and when he was laid away, she had a
stone erected with the words, "A true friend and a man without fear." So
passed Kenna