l forebears, that progress
rearranges principles and constitutions, that what passed as good
statesmanship in Jefferson's time is out of order in the present. Mr.
Rudolph paused in the middle of a metaphor. There was a sudden
commotion in the rear of the hall. Men were surging to and fro.

"Stand back!" cried a firm, resonant voice, full of anger.

The uproar increased. Those in the forward chairs craned their necks.
Some stood up to learn what the matter might be. Others mounted their
seats. A thousand absurd conjectures passed from mouth to mouth.

"Somebody's dropped dead!"

"Sit down in front! Sit down!"

"What's the matter?"

"Where are the police?"

"Put him out!"

"A fight!"

Blue helmets moved toward the scene of action slowly. Mr. Rudolph
still paused and moistened his lips impatiently. Men can give and take
away popularity in the same breath, but a dog fight is arranged by
occult forces, and must, like opportunity, be taken when it comes. We
are educated to accept oratory, but we need no education in the matter
of a dog fight. This red corpuscle was transmitted to us from the
Stone Age, and the primordial pleasures alone resist enlightenment.

Two bulldogs, one tan, the other white, were fighting desperately,
near the exits. In between human legs, under chairs, this way and
that, snarling, snapping, dragging. Men called out, kicked, tried to
use canes and umbrellas, and some burned matches. The dogs were
impervious. Now the white dog was atop, now the tan. So many
interfered that there was no interference.

It was Warrington who had cried out. He had been listening to the
orator; and Jove, smelling his enemy from afar, slyly crept out of his
master's reach. The white dog had also been on the watch. In the drop
of an eyelid the battle was on. Warrington instantly comprehended the
situation, when he saw McQuade, who had every confidence in his dog,
clear a circle. He pushed his way through the swaying wall of men and
commanded those in front to stand back. He was furious. He had no
objections to human beings fighting, but he detested these bloody
conflicts between dumb brutes. He called to Jove, but Jove was past
hearing; he had tasted his enemy's blood. Once Warrington succeeded in
parting the dogs, but the crush prevented his making the separation
complete. Instantly they were at it again. The police made superhuman
efforts to arrive before it was all over. The fight, however, came to
an end as