ers. A
moment later the lady was down and out. A sudden blow at the breast from
the great elbow. I heard her fall.... I heard the gasp of the crowd.

Here and there the blank street was suddenly struck to life. Warm blinds
began to wink. One heard the creak of opening windows, and voices: "Why
doncher separate 'em? Why cancher shut that plurry row?" With the new
light one saw the crowd against a ground of chocolate hue. Here and
there a cigarette picked out a face, glowing like an evil eye. All else
was dank darkness.

Round and round the combatants went. Two well-set youngsters made a dash
upon them, only to be swung from their feet into the crowd. They kicked,
twisted, jerked, panted, now staggered a few paces, now stood still,
straining silently. Now they were down, now up. Another woman's voice
wailed across the unhappy water in the mournful accent of Belfast:
"Fr-r-rank, Fr-rank, where arrre ye? Oh, Fr-rank, Fr-rank--ye br-reak me
hear-r-t!"

Then Chuck Lightfoot, known also as The Panther, The Croucher, and The
Prize Packet, shifted from my side. I looked at him. "Fed up on this, I
am. Wait here." He vaulted from the deck of the tug to the
landing-stage, strode up the gang-plank, and was lost in the long shaft
of darkness.

From above one heard a noise--a nasty noise: the sound of a man's head
being banged on the pavement. Frank's wife screamed: "Separate 'em! He's
killin' 'im! Why don't some one do somethin'?"

Another woman cried: "I'll be sick. Stop 'em! I daresn't look."

Then everything stopped. We heard a low hum, swelling swiftly to a
definite cry. The word "dead--dead--dead" flitted from mouth to mouth.
Some turned away. Others approached as near as they dared, retreating
fearfully when a push from behind drove them forward....

But nobody was dead. Into the centre light had dashed Chuck Lightfoot.
Chuck Lightfoot was a pugilistic manager. He was a lot of other things
besides. He was the straightest boy I have ever met in that line. He had
every high animal quality that a man should have. And he had a cold
nerve that made men twice his size afraid of him.

The fight was stopped. Two blows from Chuck had stopped it. The crowd
gathered round and gave first aid to both combatants, while Chuck faced
them, and waited for assaults. We climbed up and stood with him, but
nothing happened. Tragedy is so often imminent in this region, and so
often trickles away to rubbish. The crowd was vociferous and gesti