d punched up five cents,
and began to pull money out of the drawer. Finally, he faced Jurgis,
counting it out--two dimes, a quarter, and fifty cents. "There," he
said.

For a second Jurgis waited, expecting to see him turn again. "My
ninety-nine dollars," he said.

"What ninety-nine dollars?" demanded the bartender.

"My change!" he cried--"the rest of my hundred!"

"Go on," said the bartender, "you're nutty!"

And Jurgis stared at him with wild eyes. For an instant horror reigned
in him--black, paralyzing, awful horror, clutching him at the heart;
and then came rage, in surging, blinding floods--he screamed aloud, and
seized the glass and hurled it at the other's head. The man ducked, and
it missed him by half an inch; he rose again and faced Jurgis, who was
vaulting over the bar with his one well arm, and dealt him a smashing
blow in the face, hurling him backward upon the floor. Then, as Jurgis
scrambled to his feet again and started round the counter after him, he
shouted at the top of his voice, "Help! help!"

Jurgis seized a bottle off the counter as he ran; and as the bartender
made a leap he hurled the missile at him with all his force. It just
grazed his head, and shivered into a thousand pieces against the post
of the door. Then Jurgis started back, rushing at the man again in the
middle of the room. This time, in his blind frenzy, he came without a
bottle, and that was all the bartender wanted--he met him halfway and
floored him with a sledgehammer drive between the eyes. An instant later
the screen doors flew open, and two men rushed in--just as Jurgis was
getting to his feet again, foaming at the mouth with rage, and trying to
tear his broken arm out of its bandages.

"Look out!" shouted the bartender. "He's got a knife!" Then, seeing that
the two were disposed to join the fray, he made another rush at Jurgis,
and knocked aside his feeble defense and sent him tumbling again; and
the three flung themselves upon him, rolling and kicking about the
place.

A second later a policeman dashed in, and the bartender yelled once
more--"Look out for his knife!" Jurgis had fought himself half to his
knees, when the policeman made a leap at him, and cracked him across the
face with his club. Though the blow staggered him, the wild-beast frenzy
still blazed in him, and he got to his feet, lunging into the air. Then
again the club descended, full upon his head, and he dropped like a log
to the floor.

The poli