"Come on an' have jess one glass," went on the man who had first addressed Robert. As he spoke he caught Robert by the shoulder. Our hero shook him off. "Don't you dare to touch me," he said sharply. "If you do you will be laying up a good bit of trouble for yourself." "In fightin' trim, hey?" "I can defend myself, and more, if I am called upon to do it." The 'longshoreman leered at Robert for a moment. "Yer too soft," he sneered, and aimed a blow for Robert's head. As quick as a flash our hero ducked, and hit out in return. The blow caught the tippler on the chin, and made him stagger up against the saloon window. "Now I guess you'll leave me alone," remarked the boy. And then he walked on, but kept glancing behind him, to be prepared for another attack. "Phew, he's a fighter, Mike," said the second man. "Dat's wot he is," grumbled Mike, rubbing his chin, where the blow had landed. "He must be wot da call a scientific boxer, hey?" "Are yer goin' ter drop him?" "Wot shall I do?" "Make him treat or lick him." "Maybe you want ter lick him," suggested Mike. "I kin if I set out fer ter do it." "Then pitch in, Pat." But Pat hesitated about going ahead. Robert looked strong, and he felt that the youth could not be easily intimidated. "We kin do it tergether," he ventured. While the two roughs were conversing Hammerditch and Le Fevre drew near. They had seen the short encounter and saw how angry were the men who wanted to be treated. "Got the best of you, did he?" said Hammerditch. "You mind your own business," growled Mike, crossly. "Why didn't you pitch into him?" went on the Englishman. "I would have done so." "Dat's wot I'm a-tellin' him," put in Pat. "He's a boy zat wants taking down," said Le Fevre. The two roughs looked at the newcomers curiously. "Do yer know de boy?" demanded Mike. "Yes, I know him, and I would like to see him get a sound thrashing," answered Hammerditch. "Gif him what he deserves and ve vill pay you vell for eet," added the French Canadian. "Wot yer down on him fer?" questioned Pat. "He stole a baggage check from me," said Hammerditch, promptly. "Of course, he claims the check, but it is mine." "I see. Do yer want ter git the check away from him?" "I do." "Where is it?" "In his trousers' pocket." "An' if we git it fer yer, wot will yer give us?" asked Pat. "Five dollars," quickly answered Hammerditch. To these roughs, who had not done a full day's work for a long time, five dollars appeared quite a sum of money. "We'll go yer," said Pat promptly. "Aint dat right, Mike?" "If you'll work wid me," answered Mike. "All right; I'll follow you up for the check," said Hammerditch. "And here is the five dollars." And he showed the bill, so that they might know that he meant what he said. In a few minutes more the two roughs had laid their plans and were stealing after Robert. "We can git dat check an' his money too," said Mike, and Pat agreed with him. CHAPTER XXXI.