uperior strength. Henry, with an
instant, powerful effort, threw oft the encircling arms, seized the West
Indian by both shoulders, and made use of a trick that Shif'less Sol had
taught him.

He thrust the man backward with a mighty shove, put out his foot, and
Menocal went over it. But the West Indian did not touch the floor. Henry
caught him by the neck and waist, and, with a great heave, lifted him high
above his head. He held him there a moment, and then said gravely to
Monsieur Francois Eugene Gilibert:

"Shall I cast him through yonder window, or put him back in the chair in
which he was sitting before he came to us uninvited?"

Monsieur Gilibert looked longingly at the window--he was a man of strength
and dexterity himself--and he admired great strength and great dexterity
in others--but motives of prudence and humanity prevailed.

"Put him back in his chair," he said.

Henry walked all the way across the room and gently put the half-stunned
man in a sitting position in his chair. A roar of applause shook the room
at this remarkable performance, and Monsieur Gilibert was not the slackest
among those who cheered. Never before had the Inn of Henri Quatre
witnessed such an extraordinary feat of strength. Lieutenant Diego Bernal
sprang to his feet and again seized Henry's right hand in both of his.

"Senor," he exclaimed, "it is an honor to me to deem myself your friend!"

Alonzo Menocal arose from his chair and came across the room. Paul's hand
moved to the butt of the pistol in his belt, but the intentions of the
West Indian were not hostile.

"Thou hast conquered," he said to Henry in his queer thee- and
thou-English. "Thou art not only the taller and the larger, but also the
stronger and the more skillful. It is the first time that Alonzo Menocal
was ever picked up, carried across a room, and put down in his chair, as a
mother puts her baby to bed."

He put out his hand in quite an American fashion, and Henry shook it, glad
that the man was good-natured. More applause greeted this act of
friendship by the two and, taking advantage of it, the five went out,
accompanied by Lieutenant Bernal, all in great good humor.

Night was coming on, and they felt that it was time to return to "The
Galleon." A man was already lighting the smoking oil lamps that hung from
the wooden arms of the posts, and from one of the forts a sentinel was
calling the hour.

New Orleans looked better under the softening hue of the