the place where an excited knot of men were gathered, gesticulating and
expostulating, about the aggrieved pugilist The latter was a burly
fellow with wide shoulders, a small round head and a protruding jaw; his
eyes were inflamed with drink and he was glowering savagely at those
about him.

"Fourth rate," was Bat Scanlon's mental appraisement of the fellow. "An
ugly fighter and, I'll gamble, a foul one."

"I was working along nice in the west," spoke Allen. "Doing fine. And
then this boob gets me to come here--on a sure thing, he says. Do you
take me for some kind of a dope?" he demanded, angrily, of those about
him. "Do you want me to stand for a thing like that?"

Again the hubbub arose; and while it was going on Bat felt a touch on
his arm. He looked around and found the hollow-chested man beside him.

"Gee!" said this gentleman, excitedly, "ain't it fierce? There's Big
Slim now."

Bat looked toward the place indicated and saw a very tall and very
frail-looking man, with shifty, deep-set eyes and a furtive manner. His
arms were almost monstrously long, and the hands at the end of them were
big and bony; his narrow shoulders were stooped.

A barkeeper beckoned to him almost frantically; Scanlon saw the burglar
loom angularly toward the bar, and heard him ask in a thin voice:

"What's the trouble?"

"Allen's back there," said the barkeeper, with a jerk of the thumb
toward the crowd surrounding the pugilist. "He's going to lay you out."

Bat saw the deep-set, light-colored eyes shift toward the group like
those of a leopard; and the glint in them was equally evil.

"Lay me out?" said the thin voice, coldly. "I guess not."

Big Slim leaned against the bar and pulled the fingers of one big bony
hand until the joints cracked; evidently the barkeeper did not like this
as a sign, for he at once waved the proprietor to the spot.

"Suppose you take a walk, Slim," requested Sheehan. The "Duke's" checked
waistcoat came well down over his swollen stomach, his moustache was of
the walrus type, and he always seemed acutely aware of the splendor of
his rings and pins. "Allen's letting off steam, and I don't want him to
see you."

"I'm not going to dodge Allen," stated the burglar. "I told him how the
thing happened; and he ain't got no cause for excitement."

Duke Sheehan put his thumbs in the armholes of the elaborate waistcoat.

"All right," said he, nonchalantly. "Just as you like. But I don't want
to see you g