elt
the thud of the billet upon something soft, but the next moment it was
torn from him, the rifle fell with a clatter, and he and the bushman
reeled against the stove together. Then, they fell against the shelves and
with a crash they and the crockery went down upon the floor.

Clavering was supple and wiry and just then consumed with an almost
insensate fury. He came down uppermost but his adversary's leg was hooked
round his knee, and the grip of several very hard fingers unpleasantly
impeded his respiration. Twice he struck savagely at a half-seen brown
face, but the grip did not relax, and the knee he strove to extricate
began to pain him horribly. The rancher possessed no mean courage and a
traditional belief in the prowess of his caste, was famed for proficiency
in most manly sports; but that did not alter the fact that the other man's
muscle, hardened by long use of the axe, was greater than his own, and the
stubborn courage which had upheld the homesteader in his struggle with
adverse seasons and the encroaching forest was at least the equal of that
born in Clavering.

So the positions were slowly reversed, until at last Clavering lay with
his head amidst a litter of broken cups and plates, and the homesteader
bent over him with a knee upon his chest.

"I guess you've had 'bout enough," he said. "Will you let up, or do you
want me to pound the life out of you?"

Clavering could not speak, but he managed to make a movement with his
head, and the next moment the man had dragged him to his feet and flung
him against the table. He caught at it, gasping, while his adversary
picked up the rifle.

"You will be sorry for this night's work yet," he said.

The homesteader laughed derisively. "Well," he said, "I guess you're sorry
now. Anyone who saw you would think you were. Get right back to the chair
yonder and stay there."

It was at least five minutes before Clavering recovered sufficiently to
survey himself, and then he groaned. His deerskin jacket was badly rent,
there was a great burn on one side of it, and several red scratches
defaced his hands. From the splotches on them after he brushed back his
ruffled hair he also had a suspicion that his head was cut, and the
tingling where the scraper had struck him suggested a very visible weal.
He felt dizzy and shaken, but his physical was less than his mental
distress. Clavering was distinguished for his artistic taste in dress and
indolent grace; but no man a