of reach of
the clutching hands that reached for his throat. They circled around
a moment and again the Frenchman came, this time in one great leap.

On the instant Ellinwood jumped in to meet him. There was a swift
flying of arms, a pounding of the great fists, and Pete suddenly shot
back from the melee and landed on his back in the dirt. One of the
Frenchman's great swings had landed. But he was up in an instant and
went after his opponent again.

Jean saw now that he had another man to deal with--unlike a Frenchman,
an Anglo-Saxon cannot fight without sufficient provocation. Now all
the battle was aroused in Ellinwood, for aside from the shame of his
downfall, the crowd was yelling at the top of its voice. Jean began to
run away, circling round and round the ring of spectators, Pete after
him.

Suddenly he made a stand, but the mate was ready for him. Dodging the
straight left, Pete hurled himself forward and seized the burly
Frenchman in his arms. Then, with a tug and a wrench, as though he
were uprooting a tree, he lifted his opponent and crashed him down to
the earth.

Jean, stunned, and with a broken arm, sought to get up. He gained his
feet and, game to the last, staggered toward Ellinwood. Pete started
to run in again, but some one on the edge of the crowd thrust a foot
out and the big islander stumbled.

Code saw the man who interfered, and, his blood boiling, leaped for
him. At the same instant there came a cry of "Police! Police!" But
Code did not hesitate. He plunged into the crowd after his man and, in
an instant, found himself surrounded and fighting the whole mob.

For a moment it lasted. There was a rain of heavy blows that blinded
him, and then something that was hard and dull struck him on the head.
Everything began to whirl, and he found he could not lift his arms.
Dimly he heard a voice near him shout: "This way!" in English and felt
himself gathered up by men and borne swiftly away.

Then consciousness left him.

CHAPTER XX

AMONG THE HOME FOLKS

The village of Freekirk Head was a changed place.

No longer of early mornings did the resounding _pop! pop!_ of
motor-dories ring back from the rocks and headland as the trawlers and
hand-liners put to sea. No longer did the groups of weary fishermen
gather on the store steps for an evening pipe and chat or the young
bloods chuck horseshoes at the foot of the chapel hill.

It was a village of women. True, Squire Hardy, being too o