t, his wide, fat
nose giving its sidewise jerk with each guffaw, Johnnie, staring up at
him, thought of the terrible African magician: of the murderous, cruel
Magua: of wicked Tom Watkins and all the man-eating savages whom the
valiant Crusoe fought.

Here was a man worse than them all! Also--there was no doubt of it--here
was the victor!

But what about One-Eye?

"One-Eye!" wailed Johnnie, in terror. For suddenly his imagination
furnished him with a new picture, this time of the Westerner. And, oh,
it was a sadly different picture from that other! It showed the cowboy,
torn, broken, beaten, stretched dead in his own lifeblood.

"Oh, _Dio mio!_--Oy! oy! oy! oy! oy!--He oughta be pinched!"

The opening door let in this much of the heated opinion of a portion of
the building. The opening door also admitted the cowboy. Slowly,
soberly, almost crawling, he came.

He was mournfully changed. That single eye was puffing redly. His
straw-colored hair was almost dark with sweat, and inclined to lie down.
From either shoulder hung woefully a half of his vest, which had ripped
straight down its back! And, yes, there was blood in evidence!--on the
knuckles of both hands! This bright decoration was from a nose which
dripped scarlet spots upon the front sections of the vest.

"Oh, One-Eye!" moaned Cis, yet not without relief. At least he was
alive--could stand--could walk!

"Goodness!" Johnnie's exclamation had in it a note of pure chagrin. His
cowboy had not won! "What did he do t' y'?" the boy wanted to know,
almost blamefully.

"Do?" repeated the cowboy, wrathfully. "Say! He went and busted my
fountain pen!" He began feeling his way toward the stove. When he got as
far as the mattress, he first hunted his handkerchief and applied it to
the stopping of that nasal stream, then, grunting painfully, he lay
down.

"Git all y' wanted?" inquired the longshoreman.

"My land!" returned the Westerner. "I got a hay-wagonful!"

"Man dear!" gasped Father Pat, making for the wash basin.

Johnnie felt suddenly heartsick. Would not the tale of One-Eye's defeat
scatter in the neighborhood? and if it did, would not his own proud
position be threatened along with the cowboy's? Whipped by Tom Barber!
That was all right for a kid! But for a man who wore hair on his
breeches----!

The boy sank back in the morris chair. "I'd sooner Big Tom'd whip _me_
again!" he declared under his breath.

Barber was mocking One-Eye. "Yes, man dear!"