"Better come outside of town," Jap interrupted. "I've been intending to go over to Barton to have a look at you, but it's better thus. I have been stealing space from my readers long enough. They pay for more important things than my private opinion of you. I made up my mind to stop the argument by giving you a hell of a licking, and I've only waited because I didn't care to risk my reputation in a neighboring town. Here it will be different. In the midst of my friends, I hope to fix you so that you'll never try to throw filth on any one again." Jones arose hastily. "I want no row," he said uneasily. "I just want an understanding." "You have the right idea," cried Jap. "You are going to get lots of understanding before you leave Bloomtown." At that moment the town marshal strolled in, wearing his star pinned on his blue flannel shirt. "I demand protection," Jones shouted. "This man has threatened me." "What's the row, Jap?" asked the monitor of peace tolerantly. "This is Mr. Wilfred Jones, of the Barton _Standard_," was all that Jap said. But the effect was electrical. The man of peace was transformed into an engine of vengeance. "Going to beat him up?" he yelled. "Go to it, and I'm here, if you need help." Jap took off his coat, deliberately. He unclasped his cuffs and was in the act of unbuttoning his collar, when the local freight whistled for the crossing below town. With a mighty leap the man from Barton cleared the space between his chair and the door. The strolling populace of Main street was scattered like leaves before a sudden gust of wind. There was an abortive cry of "Stop, thief!" and a bewildered pursuit by several tipsy bums who had been loafing in front of Bingham's saloon, but the appearance of the marshal, wearing a broad grin of satisfaction, dispelled apprehension. "That was Jones, travelin' light," he explained. The next issue of the _Standard_ failed to mention the editorial visit to Bloomtown; but the scurrilous articles ceased and there was quiet again. "Did Ellis ever have a fight--that kind of a fight--with anybody?" Jap asked Flossy, when Bill had finished his second-hand recital of the show that "he wouldn't have missed for his farm in Texas." In Bill's heart there arose a mighty resentment against Rosy Raymond, who had enticed him from the office just before Jones arrived. "Ellis did a good deal of fighting before he got me to fight his battles for him," she said, a whimsical smile in her gentle eyes. "You ought to know, Jap. I never would have had Ellis if he hadn't whipped Brother William." "But that wasn't a matter of personal grudge," Jap argued. It had seemed to him that somehow he had degraded himself when he went down to Jones's ethical level. "I wanted to use my fists because Jones ridiculed me. When Ellis licked the Judge, it wasn't a personal matter. He did it for me." "And you did this for--for the honor of Bloomtown," cried Bill, with enthusiasm. CHAPTER XII