lad! Shure, that puts the faith into ye, don't it!"

Barber was against a wall, choking, spluttering. "You--you--you--!" he
panted. "The idear o' hittin' a man without warnin'!"

"I know," agreed Mr. Perkins, good-naturedly. "Also, the idea of pulling
a man's nose without warning."

Now Big Tom was in the proper frame of mind for the fight. "You go on
downstairs!" he ordered. "And let me tell y' this: When I git done with
y', they'll pick y' up on a quilt! Git that?--on a _quilt_!"

Mr. Perkins opened the hall door. "You lead the way downstairs," he
said. "I trust you, Mr. Barber, but somehow I don't trust your feet."

Then the two went out, the longshoreman trembling with rage.

CHAPTER XXXIV

SIR ALGERNON

TO the right, at the rear end of the long, black hallway that connected
the area with the street on the north, was a good-sized room which had
once been used by a job printer--as proven by the rubbish in it: strips
of wood, quantities of old type, torn paper, and ragged, inky cloths.
The room had a pair of large windows looking out upon the brick
pavement; but as these windows were smeared and dust-sprinkled, the
place offered privacy. And Barber, leading the way down from his own
flat, did not halt until he stood in the center of it.

"I'm not goin' t' have no cop stop this fight," he declared grimly.

Mr. Perkins, entering, shut the door at his back. "Neither am I," he
answered quietly.

There was a moment's pause, as the two men, separated by several feet,
gazed at each other. Physically, the contrast between them was horrific.
Slight, neat, dapper, showing even no ill-temper, Mr. Perkins seemed but
a poor match for Barber, whose appearance was more gorillalike than
usual (hair disheveled, heavy shoulders humped, teeth grinding savagely
under puffed and bristling lips, huge hands at the ends of long, curving
arms, spreading and closing with the desire to clutch and rend). Yet Big
Tom was plainly not so cocksure of himself as he had been, while the
scoutmaster wore an air of complete confidence.

Suddenly, muttering a curse, the longshoreman lurched forward and
reached for the younger man. In the same instant, Mr. Perkins clenched
his own fists and held them before him on guard. But also he advanced,
though elusively, slipping to one side of those great paws. As he side
stepped, with a duck of the head he gathered himself together, snapped
forward, and landed a jab square upon Barber's right e