in
front of Sara and Jim, and Sara struck at the lad. It was a back-handed
blow and Sara brought his elbow back into Jim's stomach with a force
that doubled Jim up like a closing book. Sara did not look round. A
policeman jerked Jim to his feet.

"After 'em, boy. Ye still can beat the next bunch!" cried the policeman.
But Jim was all in. The blow had been a vicious one and he swayed limply
against the burly bluecoat.

"Dirty luck!" grunted the Irishman, and with his arm under Jim's
shoulders he walked slowly with him to the rooms at Columbus Circle,
where the runners were to dress. There Uncle Denny found Jim, still
white and shaken, dressing slowly.

"What happened to you, me boy?" asked Uncle Denny, looking at him
keenly.

Jim sat limply on the edge of a cot and told Dennis what had happened.

"The low scoundrel!" roared Uncle Denny. "Leave me get at him!"

Jim caught the purple-faced Irishman by the arm. "You are to say nothing
to anyone, Uncle Denny. How could I prove that he meant to do it? And do
you want me to be a loser that bellyaches?"

Uncle Denny looked Jim over and breathed hard for a moment before he
replied: "Very well, me boy. But I always suspected he had a yellow
streak in him and this proves it. Have you seen him do dirty tricks
before?"

"I never had any proof," answered Jim carefully. "And it was always some
money matter and I'm no financier, so I laid it to my own ignorance."

"A man who will do dirt in money matters can't be a clean sport," said
Uncle Denny. "This ends any chance of your going into business with him,
Jim, I hope."

"I gave that idea up long ago, Uncle Denny. Pen is not to hear a word of
all this, remember, won't you?"

At this moment, Saradokis burst in the door. He was dressed and his face
was vivid despite his exhaustion.

"Hey, Still! What happened to you? Everybody's looking for you.
Congratulate me, old scout!"

Jim looked from Sara's outstretched hand to his beaming face. Then he
put his own hand in his pocket.

"That was a rotten deal you handed me, Sara," he said in the drawl that
bit.

"What!" cried Sara.

"What's done's done," replied Jim. "I'm no snitcher, so you know you're
safe. But I'm through with you."

Sara turned to Uncle Denny, injured innocence in his face. "What is the
matter with him, Mr. Dennis?" he exclaimed.

"Still Jim, me boy, go down to the machine while I talk with Sara," said
Dennis.

"No, there is no use talking," insisted