nd returned to her dealing. Pete strolled out,
followed by his satellites. When the noises in the street grew louder it
caused no particular comment. It was the usual thing. But when a crowd
burst into the Royal Flush, Mignon sprang to her feet with a cry of
anguish.

"Dealt me a raw deal, didn't yeh, you smart Frenchie?" gloated Buckeye
Pete. "Well, look at your man. Take a good look, an' don't miss the
necktie he's wearin'. Pretty li'l rope choker we got for Dandy Anthony.
Ain't no man can go killin' an' get away with it, while I'm here,"
looking around for applause.

"Name of a pig!" hissed Mignon. "You--you would."

"Sure' we would! Right out on the lynchin' tree." She turned and dashed
for the rear. "Ze sheriff! He must come toute suite!"

"Min," whispered Soft-soap Joe, the bartender, "he left two hours ago on
a new case, otherwise they wouldn't a-dared do this."

"Mon Dieu! An' ze justice, he is intoxicate! Mother Marie, pray for
him," she cried, in her own language, and she ran after the lynching
party.

Once she stopped, shaking with terror at what she took to be a grizzly
in the path. It was only the fighting donkey still following the master
whom he had adopted. He made his way to the very center of the mob. The
French girl followed and, climbing onto a barrel, faced the crowd with
flashing eyes.

"Consider what you do! The judgment of le bon Dieu will be upon you!"

"Aw! Choke her off! Pull her down, somebody."

But the three or four who tried to reach Mignon on her barrel next to
the bound man on the horse beneath the hanging tree, fell victim to the
"greatest battling jack in the state."

"My friend," orated the old judge afterwards, in describing these
events, "what mere man, however filled with tanglefoot, could face the
wicked teeth, and hoofs, and kicks which had conquered wild Texas bulls,
caused the mountain lion to cringe in his lair, and the invincible
grizzly to flee across the Sierras?"

At any rate, the little donkey was everywhere at once, biting, striking,
kicking, squealing, with the venom and speed and precision of a
rattlesnake, while Mignon railed, unmindful of Anthony's protests.

"Ze blood on hees clothes! Bah! You 'ave all see 'ow he is carry home
la petite so-hurt dog. Oui! ze dog of Monsieur Pete. Who is know where
Monsieur Collins is go for new dog fight? Monsieur Pete! Who has anger
at Monsieur Ant'ony for because I, Mignon, 'ave look once again at
Monsieur, who is so