gure pushed its way through, and Joe Clark
stood before me, blocking my path.

He held two, roughly cut clubs, one in each hand. His sleeves were
rolled up over his tremendous arms; his shirt was open at the neck,
displaying, even in the uncertain moonlight, a great, hairy, massive
chest over which muscles and sinews crawled.

I scanned his face. His jaw was set, his lips were a thin line, his
eyes were gleaming savagely and a mane of fair hair was falling in a
clump over his brow. He looked dishevelled and was evidently labouring
under badly suppressed excitement.

"Where's Rita?" he growled.

I put my buckets aside and took my pipe from between my teeth.

"Half-way home by this time, I hope," I said.

"She is,--eh!" he cut in sarcastically. "Guess so! Look here,
Bremner,--what'n the hell's your game with Rita, anyway?"

I went straight up to him.

I did not want to quarrel. Not that I was afraid of him, even knowing,
as I did, that I would be likely to get much the worse of any possible
encounter;--but, for Rita's sake, I preferred peace.

"My good fellow," I said, "why in heaven's name can't you talk sense?
I have no game, as you call it, with Rita.

"If you would only play straight with her, you might get her yourself.
But I'll tell you this,--skulking around other people's property, after
the skirts of a woman, never yet brought a man anything but rebuffs."

"Aw!--cut out your damned yapping, Bremner," he yelled furiously. "Who
the hell wants any of your jaw? Play straight the devil! You're some
yellow cuss to talk to anybody about playin' straight."

It was all I could do to keep my temper in check.

"What d'ye bring her over to your place at night for, if you're playin'
straight?" he continued.

"To teach her grammar;--that's all," I exclaimed.

"Grammar be damned," he thundered. "What d'ye put up blinds for if
you're playin' straight?"

"To keep skulkers from seeing how respectable people spend their
evenings," I shot at him.

"You're a confounded liar," he yelled, beside himself. "I know what
you're up to, with your oily tongue and your Jim Dandy style.

"Rita was mine before you ever set your damned dial in Golden Crescent.
She'd 've been mine for keeps by this time, but you got her goin'. Now
you're usin' her to pass the time, keepin' men who want to from
marryin' her."

With a black madness inside me, I sprang in on him. He stepped aside.

"No, you don't!" he cried. "Ta