ce. And so
when Albert stepped on the piazza of the hotel where Westcott stood
rattling his pocketful of silver change and his keys for the amusement of
the bystanders, as was his wont, the latter put himself in Charlton's
way, and said, in a dreary, half-drunk style:

[Illustration: ONE SAVAGE BLOW FULL IN THE FACE.]

"Mornin', Mr. Hedgehog! By George! he! he! he! How's the purty little
girl? My little girl. Don't you wish she wasn't? Hard feller, I am. Any
gal's a fool to marry me, I s'pose. Katy's a fool. That's just what I
want, by George I he! he! I want a purty fool. And she's purty, and
she's--the other thing. What you goin' to do about it? He! he! he!"

"I'm going to knock you down," said Albert, "if you say another word
about her."

"A'n't she mine? You can't help it, either. He! he! The purty little
goose loves Smith Westcott like lots of other purty little--"

Before he could finish the sentence Charlton had struck him one savage
blow full in the face, and sent him staggering back against the side of
the house, but he saved himself from falling by seizing the window-frame,
and immediately drew his Deringer. Charlton, who was not very strong, but
who had a quick, lightning-like activity, knocked him down, seized his
pistol, and threw it into the street. This time Charlton fell on him in a
thoroughly murderous mood, and would perhaps have beaten and choked him
to death in the frenzy of his long pent-up passion, for notwithstanding
Westcott's struggles Albert had the advantage. He was sober, active, and
angry enough to be ruthless. Westcott's friends interfered, but that
lively gentleman's eyes and nose were sadly disfigured by the pummeling
he had received, and Charlton was badly scratched and bruised.

Whatever hesitancy had kept Albert from talking to Katy about Smith
Westcott was all gone now, and he went home to denounce him bitterly.
One may be sure that the muddled remarks of Mr. Westcott about Katy--of
which even he had grace to be a little ashamed when he was sober--were
not softened in the repetition which Albert gave them at home. Even
Mrs. Plausaby forgot her attire long enough to express her indignation,
and as for Miss Marlay, she combined with Albert in a bayonet-charge on
poor Katy.

Plausaby had always made it a rule not to fight a current. Wait till the
tide turns, he used to say, and row with the stream when it flows your
way. So now he, too, denounced Westcott, and Katy was fairly born