As the burly cowboy burst open the door and rushed into the dining-room, brandishing a branding-iron above his head, and threatening dire destruction to everybody present, Fred dashed at him, and seized his upraised arm, while Terry reached for his rifle. The burly cowboy aimed a blow at Fred's head with the branding-iron, but Fred reached up and caught him by the wrist, while the dog ran around and attacked him in the rear. The fellow evidently thought that it would be an easy matter to jerk loose from Fred's grip, but to his amazement he found that his grip was like that of a steel vise, and to save his life he couldn't pull loose from him. Fred held him steadily, and with his left fist dealt him a blow on the right side of his chest. Terry then ran up with his Winchester, holding it rather menacingly. "Let him alone, Terry," said Fred, "I'll attend to him." Fred then gave him three or four blows while the fellow kept jerking and twisting to try to free himself, after a while giving vent to fierce imprecations and at the same time trying to avoid the fangs of the bulldog. Fred then began pushing the villain back toward the door, through which he had entered. Seeing that he couldn't use the branding-iron on Fred, he tried to take it in his left hand for that purpose, but Fred's left interfered, and the fellow felt as though his right arm would be broken. Fred, pushed him out of the door, and he lost his balance as he went through, and so fell to the ground. As the man fell to the ground, just outside the door, the branding-iron slipped from his hand. Then Fred jerked him up to his feet, and went at him like a cyclone. Four or five blows on the chest caused him to go down again. Again Fred jerked the fellow up on his feet, and the second time beat him down, until the fellow didn't have breath enough left in him to say anything. Fred let him lie there for about one minute, and then said: "You wanted work or fight. I'll give you all the fight you want and charge you nothing for it," and as soon as the fellow tried slowly to get up, Fred dealt him another blow that laid him out for about five minutes. Hearing that the fight had ceased, Evelyn entered the other room to assure the girls that Fred and Terry could take care of the fellow, again came out, and looked at the scene going on outside. "Brother," said she, "you are not going to kill him, are you?" "No, I'm just going to let Fred manage him in his own way." "Fred," she asked, "what are you going to do to him?" "Go into the house, dear, and quiet those girls. I'm not going to shed any blood or take a life." She didn't follow his injunctions to go into the house, but she kept quiet a while and watched them. "Fred, have you killed him?" she asked presently, as she saw the man lying like a dead man on the ground. "No; I knocked him out, though, and am waiting for him to get his breath back." By and by the fellow began to breathe hard and groan.