does might be found within the island; doomed here for many
offences, they still committed the offence of living. Nicanor was
greeted with a chorus of jests and exclamations.

"Hurry, son, our time is not so long as thy legs."

"Where's thy plaything? Balbus here is ready with his toy to make
ribbons of that ugly beast of thine."

"Let us see now whose boasts will stand repeating."

"I have two asses on thee, Balbus!" one cried, and jingled two copper
coins in his horny palms. Coins were produced from rags by those lucky
enough to own them; others wagered their picks or spades. One bet his
sandals on Nicanor's chances against a man who was willing to lose his
shirt.

Nicanor pushed his way into the ring, where Balbus, grasping a large
black rat, knelt on one knee, ready to loose the strip of cloth that
bound its muzzle. Nicanor shook his gray rat out of the bag, and untied
it.

Men had found such contests cheap as well as exciting, since rats were
over plentiful, and when pitted against their own kind would fight to
the death. This form of amusement was widespread among soldiers and the
lower classes; and there were men who made a business of training rats
and selling them or matching them against all comers. These beasts were
carefully bred from approved fighting stock, and often brought sums
preposterously large.

Balbus let go his black with a yell as Nicanor released the gray, and
the two beasts leaped at each other and closed in the middle of the
ring, rolling over. Men clawed over one another's shoulders to see
better; at opposite sides of the ring the owners squatted, each urging
on his animal with hisses and clapping hands. The light from the smoking
lamps and candles fell upon the crowd, throwing into relief brutal
faces, and eyes gleaming wolfishly, savagely eager for blood.

"The black is on top, the black wins!" one cried, hot-eyed with
excitement, and leaned further and still further into the ring. Another
pulled him back.

"Nay, fool--the gray--look at him, holy gods! My money on the gray! See,
the black bleeds--the gray hath bit him in the throat. Macte! At him
again, graybeard! Lad, a brand-new knife is thine if thou'lt win for me
those sandals of Chilo's! Ah--habet!"

The ring tossed with excitement. Bets were roared from brazen throats;
those on the outskirts of the crowd fought to get a look. And in the
open centre of the tumult a furry ball rolled and bit and squealed and
made bloody spo