table and into a yard, out of that yard and
into a house, and through that house with the sound (and effect upon
furniture) of trampling herds. In fact, this very similarity must have
been in the mind of the distressed coloured woman in Mrs. Williams's
kitchen, when she declared that she might "jes' as well try to cook
right spang in the middle o' the stock-yards."

All up and down the neighbourhood the campaigns were waged, accompanied
by the martial clashing of wood upon wood and by many clamorous
arguments.

"You're a pris'ner, Roddy Bitts!"

"I am not!"

"You are, too! I touched you."

"Where, I'd like to know!"

"On the sleeve."

"You did not! I never felt it. I guess I'd 'a' felt it, wouldn't I?"

"What if you didn't? I touched you, and you're bonded. I leave it to Sam
Williams."

"Yah! Course you would! He's on your side! _I_ leave it to Herman."

"No, you won't! If you can't show any SENSE about it, we'll do it over,
and I guess you'll see whether you feel it or not! There! NOW, I guess
you--"

"Aw, squash!"

Strangely enough, the undoubted champion proved to be the youngest and
darkest of all the combatants, one Verman, coloured, brother to Herman,
and substantially under the size to which his nine years entitled him.
Verman was unfortunately tongue-tied, but he was valiant beyond all
others, and, in spite of every handicap, he became at once the chief
support of his own party and the despair of the opposition.

On the third Saturday this opposition had been worn down by the
successive captures of Maurice Levy and Georgie Bassett until it
consisted of only Sam Williams and Penrod. Hence, it behooved these
two to be wary, lest they be wiped out altogether; and Sam was dismayed
indeed, upon cautiously scouting round a corner of his own stable, to
find himself face to face with the valorous and skilful Verman, who was
acting as an outpost, or picket, of the enemy.

Verman immediately fell upon Sam, horse and foot, and Sam would
have fled but dared not, for fear he might be touched from the rear.
Therefore, he defended himself as best he could, and there followed a
lusty whacking, in the course of which Verman's hat, a relic and too
large, fell from his head, touching Sam's weapon in falling.

"There!" panted Sam, desisting immediately. "That counts! You're bonded,
Verman."

"Aim meewer!" Verman protested.

Interpreting this as "Ain't neither", Sam invented a law to suit the
occasion. "Yes,