t's that dude," Billy explained between gusts. "What did he wanta do
it for? That's what gets my goat. What'd he wanta do it for?"

There was more crashing in the brush, and two women erupted upon the
scene, one in flight, the other pursuing. Almost ere they could realize
it, the little group found itself merged in the astounding conflict that
covered, if not the face of creation, at least all the visible landscape
of Weasel Park.

The fleeing woman stumbled in rounding the end of a picnic bench, and
would have been caught had she not seized Mary's arm to recover balance,
and then flung Mary full into the arms of the woman who pursued. This
woman, largely built, middle-aged, and too irate to comprehend, clutched
Mary's hair by one hand and lifted the other to smack her. Before the
blow could fall, Billy had seized both the woman's wrists.

"Come on, old girl, cut it out," he said appeasingly. "You're in wrong.
She ain't done nothin'."

Then the woman did a strange thing. Making no resistance, but
maintaining her hold on the girl's hair, she stood still and calmly
began to scream. The scream was hideously compounded of fright and fear.
Yet in her face was neither fright nor fear. She regarded Billy coolly
and appraisingly, as if to see how he took it--her scream merely the cry
to the clan for help.

"Aw, shut up, you battleax!" Bert vociferated, trying to drag her off by
the shoulders.

The result was that The four rocked back and forth, while the woman
calmly went on screaming. The scream became touched with triumph as more
crashing was heard in the brush.

Saxon saw Billy's slow eyes glint suddenly to the hardness of steel, and
at the same time she saw him put pressure on his wrist-holds. The woman
released her grip on Mary and was shoved back and free. Then the first
man of the rescue was upon them. He did not pause to inquire into the
merits of the affair. It was sufficient that he saw the woman reeling
away from Billy and screaming with pain that was largely feigned.

"It's all a mistake," Billy cried hurriedly. "We apologize, sport--"

The Irishman swung ponderously. Billy ducked, cutting his apology short,
and as the sledge-like fist passed over his head, he drove his left to
the other's jaw. The big Irishman toppled over sidewise and sprawled
on the edge of the slope. Half-scrambled back to his feet and out of
balance, he was caught by Bert's fist, and this time went clawing down
the slope that was slip