her man would return to the
conflict. He therefore drew a deep breath and braced himself for the
expected advance. Something warm and wet seemed to be trickling down
over Jimmie's face. He put up a hand to wipe it away. The hand came
away wet and sticky. To Jimmie's astonishment the hand was red.

A roar of rage assailed his ears, and Jimmie turned just in time to
duck under a mighty swing. Angered at the persistence displayed,
Jimmie let fly a stinging hook that fell short of its intended mark.
Instead of landing on Otto's chin, as he had purposed, Jimmie flung his
fist full upon the "Adam's apple" of his antagonist, bringing forth a
gurgling squawk that afforded merriment to the bystanders.

He lost no time in following up his advantage. Quickly springing
forward, he landed a shower of blows, each one in a telling spot about
Otto's head. The lad's ire was fully roused, and he entered into the
matter of administering punishment with a zest.

Handicapped by his lighter weight, the boy could not hope successfully
to cope with the burly German on anything like an equal footing, and
consequently determined to press the advantage to the utmost, hence he
wasted no blows, but made every one count.

Eager to administer what he considered ample punishment, yet wary and
cautious, the lad gave his entire attention to his effort. He was
looking for an opening through which he might slip a "knockout," and
gave no heed to the events transpiring about him. Hence he did not
notice the approach of a small party of officers until he felt a hand
laid heavily upon his shoulder and a voice spoke in his ear.

"So, this is the way my soldiers behave when I am not present!" Jimmie
heard the man say. He turned to gaze at the newcomer.

"Captain von Liebknecht!" he gasped in utter amazement.

"The same," replied the officer who had first interviewed Jimmie in the
partly ruined house. "It seems to me," he went on in a severe tone,
his pale blue eyes narrowing to mere points, "that my recruits might be
in better business than trying to spoil my veterans!"

For a moment Jimmie forgot to be respectful. The old spirit of Bowery
repartee, so long held in leash and thoroughly muzzled by Ned Nestor's
training and Jimmie's own self-control, had broken bonds, and now
showed itself upon the surface without restraint.

"You can't spoil a bad egg, Captain!" was the impertinent response.
"This fool Dutchman got too gay and I just put hi