seeing, seeing, and what
he saw was agonizing. "Oh, Mister Perkins'll be licked!" he faltered.
"Oh, I wish I could've went along. But I'm weak! Oh, Father Pat, the
next time I git licked, I'll keep it t' myself!"

"Oh, don't be silly!" admonished Cis, apprehensive, but calm, being
buoyed up by hope based upon solid information. "Didn't I tell you,
Johnnie, to 'wait till Mr. Perkins finds out'? Well, we waited, tied to
the table like two thieves, or something. And Mr. Perkins _has_ found
out, and he's giving Tom Barber a sound thrashing! So _I'm_ not
worrying!"

"I can see y' ain't," declared One-Eye, admiringly. He was back at the
sink once more, allowing Niagara to lave that injured eye, now a shining
purplish-black. "Bully fer the gal! That's the stuff! Y' got backbone!
And spirit, by thunder! And sand! Jes' paste _that_ in yer sunbonnet!
But, Cis, w'y don't y' skedaddle right _now_? Go whilst the goin's good!
Gosh, I'm 'feard that some one's likely t' git hurt pretty bad, and it
won't be Barber! So whoever it is will need t' be nursed."

"Oy! oy! oy! oy!" lamented Mrs. Kukor.

"I'll nurse him!" cried Johnnie, hardly able to keep back the tears.
"I'll go with him, and take care of him, and cook for him."

"Don't you understand, Johnnie? _I'm_ going with him! I'm to be Mrs.
Perkins! And--I'll be right here when Algy comes in."

"But--but--!" whispered Johnnie. What he was thinking made allowance for
no such charming event as a wedding; rather for the same sort of doleful
procession he had pictured before, only now Big Tom was in the carriage
with him, while poor Mr. Perkins----!

One-Eye had something of the sort in his own mind, for as he forsook
the sink, Mrs. Kukor leading him, he shook a rumpled head at her.
"Barber's bigger'n a barn!" he observed grimly.

"Pos-i-_tivvle_!"

Cis laughed, tossing her head. "_I_ don't care how big he is," she
declared, "or how mad! Algy can take care of himself."

Looking at her, Johnnie felt both pity and disgust--pity for the grief
she would undoubtedly suffer soon, disgust for her girl's lack of
understanding. Was not the young, boyish, slender scoutmaster fighting
this very moment for his life, and that with a steel-constructed giant?
"Aw, jus' look at One-Eye!" he counseled argumentatively, and groaned
again.

"Wait for Algy," returned Cis, crossing to slip an affectionate arm
about Mrs. Kukor's shoulders. "And don't fret. Because Algy's the
amateur light-heavyweig