Watts was a big man, and tough. He shook his head, wiped his nose, looked incredulously at the blood on his hand, and let out a roar of rage. It was not much of a fight. Watts' first blow dazed Tallant, the second knocked him down, and before he could get up Watts stepped in and kicked him in the head. The Centauran woman still stood where the men had left her, wide-eyed with confusion. She ran awkwardly over to Watts, shoving in between him and Tallant's prostrate body, and pushed the five-dollar piece at him, chattering excitedly in her own tongue. Watts twisted the money from her fingers and shoved her roughly down on top of Tallant. "There, you goddam native-lover," he roared, "get a real good whiff of one once, see how you like it." She was still carrying the baby, she tried to shield it as she fell, but her body twisted and she came down heavily on it. The baby screamed, a high-pitched, nerve-tearing sound. The male who had started back to get her pulled a long sharp knife from somewhere beneath his rags and broke into a trot, his eyes beadily intent on Watts. McCullough had started down off the porch when Watts put the boot to Tallant. He changed his intent and ran in behind the native, and hit him solidly with his fist in the back of the neck. The native went sprawling and his knife flew out of his hand. People were turning to look and popping out of tents and shelters all around now. "Why, that dirty native," Watts bellowed, "he tried to knife me!" He stepped over to the Centauran and kicked him savagely several times. The other four males had been watching open-mouthed. They turned abruptly and started back down the alley the way they had come, but there was a small knot of men there, watching them. The natives paused uncertainly. One broke away and ran toward the street, between McCullough's house and Tallant's tent, and the others followed. Most of the Earthmen had no idea what was happening. The closer ones could see a couple of natives and a man lying on the ground, another man with a bloody face shouting something about knifing, and four natives running. "Head 'em off!" someone called. "They'll get away in the street!" That was how the riot at Port Knakvik started. * * * * * Watts ran off after the mob chasing the natives, perhaps with some idea of explaining, more likely not--he was in a half mindless rage of excitement with the whiskey and the fighting. McCullough was left alone with Tallant and the two natives. The native woman seemed unhurt, she was picking herself up and examining the infant, which still whimpered. Tallant was unconscious. McCullough picked him up and carried him into the house. His wife was standing white-faced at the door.