Jim was many pounds lighter, and although the science of boxing was not unknown to him, he was dog-tired and his wrenched back agonized him at every move. The sheer weight of the other man was bearing him down, and Hess seemed to realize it, for with a grunt of satisfaction he swung in and landed a stiff body blow which staggered his adversary. Hess's left eye was closed, and his lips split, but he hammered at his man relentlessly, and at length caught him with a blow which brought him to his knees. All the bully's blood-lust boiled at sight of his half-fallen victim, and he drew back his heavily shod foot for a murderous kick, but it was never delivered. Something caught that foot from behind and tripped him heavily into the dust, then landed upon him like a wildcat and bit and tore at him until with a scream of pain he managed to throw it off. Even as he struggled to his feet it sprang again upon him, kicking and clawing, and he turned quickly, and scrambling into the buggy seat, gathered up the reins. Lou stood where he had torn himself from her grasp, listening to the volley of oaths and clatter of horses's feet until both had been swallowed up in the distance. Then she turned to where Jim stood swaying, with one hand pressed to his side, and the blood from the reopened cut upon his forehead making his face look ghastly in the starlight. "Well," she remarked with satisfaction. "I guess he got more 'n he come for, an' we've seen the last of _him!_" "But Lou!" There was admiration and awe in his tones. "Your method of fighting isn't in the Queensberry rules, although I must say it was effective. I was going to try to protect you, and it turned out the other way!" "Don't know what queen you're talkin' about, nor what rules she made, but when _I_ fight, I fight with everything I've got," Lou declared with finality. "Come and let me fix up your head again, an' we'll have supper." An hour later and throughout the night, a slim little figure, rolled in a man's shabby coat, lay sleeping peacefully in a corner of the mill, while on the doorstep in his shirt sleeves and with a stout cudgel across his knees, a weary man drowsed fitfully, on guard. CHAPTER III The Vendor of Everything When Lou awakened the next morning at dawn it was her turn to find herself deserted, but the fact failed to arouse any misgivings in her mind. She had found in her brief experience with menfolks that they were mostly queer, one way or another, but this one was dependable, and she felt no doubt that he would turn up when he got ready.