Panama was boiling over with rage. The more he strove to suppress his anger, the hotter he became. Never before in all his career as a noncom had he ever stood for so much abuse from a buck private. He couldn’t understand now why he was taking it all from Lefty. “I’m warnin’ you, Lef, cut the comedy or you’re liable to get hurt!” Phelps, looking for sympathy, turned to a man standing near by. “Sh—sh—shee that? He’s ma’ pal an’ now he wants to fight! Okay, baby, if you wan’ it, I’m ready!” Lefty lifted his hands and clenched his fists, but before he could use them, Panama shot out a clean right straight to the jaw and sent the boy spinning across the room, dead to the world. He fell to the floor in a heap and just missed crashing his head against the iron legs of a table. Panama grinned menacingly and started toward his victim as the crowd of onlookers stepped back to make way for him. Rosa, though, was not to be so easily done with. She ran after the sergeant, still determined to prevent her prize from slipping through her fingers. Just as she was about to leap for him from behind, he swung around, picked her up in his arms and sat her on top of the bar, kicking, screaming and protesting. As he reached the spot where Lefty fell, he bent down, picked the boy up, throwing him over his shoulder and turned about to leave. He hadn’t gone far when one of the waiters ran after him, waving a check and gesticulating in Spanish. Panama glanced at the bill, reached into Lefty’s pocket and took out the roll of currency, peeling off some money and throwing it to the waiter, returning the rest to the pocket from whence it came. As the sergeant reached the grilled door with Lefty still across his shoulder, a heavy-set native, nearly a head taller than the Marine, stepped before them. Panama’s quick-wittedness came into play, and picking up Lefty’s limp, right leg, shoved it forward into the face of the unsuspecting antagonist, bowling the man over into insensibility. Someone near by swung open the door and Panama exited, breathing freely as he once more found himself out in the cool, night air. No sooner had he started down the steps of the veranda than he heard someone approaching from behind. Turning, he found Rosa in the doorway. She leaped forward, clinging to Williams’ shoulders as she emitted a flood of vile oaths in her native tongue. He strove to throw her off but her grip was too strong; besides, she had the advantage over him due to the fact that he was loaded down on one side by Lefty’s dead weight. Just ahead, at the side of the building, was a rain barrel. Panama smiled grimly as he continued on his way, now burdened with the screeching girl as well as the intoxicated Marine. As they came to the side of the rain barrel, the sergeant dropped Lefty gently to the ground and then suddenly grasped the unsuspecting Rosa in both arms, lifted her high in the air and then threw her bodily into the cask of overflowing rain water.