f them, and only one advanced to the combat. He
hit Gresson a clip on the jaw with his left, and but for the wall would
have laid him out. I saw in the lamplight the vicious gleam in the
American's eye and the twitch of his hand to his pocket. That decided
me to interfere and I got in front of him.

This brought the second jock into the fray. He was a broad, thickset
fellow, of the adorable bandy-legged stocky type that I had seen go
through the Railway Triangle at Arras as though it were blotting-paper.
He had some notion of fighting, too, and gave me a rough time, for I
had to keep edging the other fellow off Gresson.

'Go home, you fool,' I shouted. 'Let this gentleman alone. I don't want
to hurt you.'

The only answer was a hook-hit which I just managed to guard, followed
by a mighty drive with his right which I dodged so that he barked his
knuckles on the wall. I heard a yell of rage, and observed that Gresson
seemed to have kicked his assailant on the shin. I began to long for
the police.

Then there was that swaying of the crowd which betokens the approach of
the forces of law and order. But they were too late to prevent trouble.
In self-defence I had to take my jock seriously, and got in my blow
when he had overreached himself and lost his balance. I never hit
anyone so unwillingly in my life. He went over like a poled ox, and
measured his length on the causeway.

I found myself explaining things politely to the constables. 'These men
objected to this gentleman's speech at the meeting, and I had to
interfere to protect him. No, no! I don't want to charge anybody. It
was all a misunderstanding.' I helped the stricken jock to rise and
offered him ten bob for consolation.

He looked at me sullenly and spat on the ground. 'Keep your dirty
money,' he said. 'I'll be even with ye yet, my man--you and that
red-headed scab. I'll mind the looks of ye the next time I see ye.'

Gresson was wiping the blood from his cheek with a silk handkerchief.
'I guess I'm in your debt, Mr Brand,' he said. 'You may bet I won't
forget it.'

* * * * *

I returned to an anxious Amos. He heard my story in silence and his
only comment was--'Well done the Fusiliers!'

'It might have been worse, I'll not deny,' he went on. 'Ye've
established some kind of a claim upon Gresson, which may come in handy
... Speaking about Gresson, I've news for ye. He's sailing on Friday as
purser in the _Tobermory_.