e six, who stood
there, legs and elbows sprawled, laughing and jeering at the men they
had displaced and at their lack of courage in not endeavouring to hold
their own.

They stood in this fashion for possibly five minutes, blocking the
counter and not allowing anyone else to get near it.

Suddenly Phil jumped up from his seat and walked over to the bar.

"Say, fellows! Come on all and have a drink on me!" he shouted.

The six at the bar swung round to look at the speaker.

"Come on,--ease up, you ginks!--unless you've hired the Kenora saloon
for the night."

No one moved, so Phil caught the man nearest to him by the belt and
yanked him out deftly. Langford, who was immediately behind Phil,
caught the next one and repeated the performance.

There was a scramble and some of the more aggressive bystanders joined
in to Phil's and Jim's assistance. Then the more timid followed, with
the ultimate result that five of McGregor's gang were dislodged, as a
dozen men crowded alongside and around their champion. McGregor still
held his place defiantly, elbows and legs asprawl as before. Phil was
close up to him, with Jim at Phil's left hand.

"Guess you think you're some kid!" McGregor remarked, spitting a wad
of chewing tobacco on to the floor.

"Quit your scrapping," returned Phil in assumed irritation. "Have a
drink!--it's on me. It isn't often I stand treat. Name your poison!"

"Well,--if that's all you're up to, guess I might as well," he
answered, in reluctant conciliation.

"Come on, fellows! This hell-for-leather blacksmith wants to blow in
his week's wages on drinks. We ain't goin' to stop him."

The bar-tenders served as fast as they could. Phil paid the score,
then turned to have a fresh look at McGregor. The latter was watching
him closely out of the corner of his eyes. He took up his glass.

"Guess you think you're puttin' one over," he snarled. "Well,--you've
got another guess comin'."

He put his tumbler up against Phil's jacket, tilted it deliberately,
sending the contents trickling all the way down Phil's clothes right
to his boot. He looked into Ralston's eyes with a sneer on his face
and slowly set his tumbler on the counter, watching every movement in
the room through narrowed eyes.

Phil's temper flared out and he swung on McGregor with tremendous
quickness.

To his surprise, quick as he was, his fist fell on McGregor's wrist.

In a second, they were in the centre of the room, tables and c