"Gee!" says I to myself, "here's some one gettin' the rough chuck-out for fair." And then I has a glimpse of a freckly face and the silly grin. The party gettin' the run was Rusty Quinn. He's lookin' just as seedy as ever, being costumed in a faded blue jersey, an old pair of yellow ridin' pants, and leggin's that don't match. The bouncer is a great, ham fisted, ruddy necked Britisher, a man twice the weight of Rusty, with a face shaped like a punkin. As he sees me slow up he snorts out somethin' ugly and gives Quinn an extra hard bang in the back with his knee. And that starts my temperature to risin' right off. "Why don't you hit him with a maul, you bloomin' aitch eater," says I. "Hey, Rusty! what you been up to now?" "Your friend's been happre'ended a-sneak thievin', that's w'at!" growls out the beef chewer. "G'wan," says I. "I wouldn't believe the likes of you under oath. Rusty, how about it?" Quinn, he gives me one of them batty grins of his and spreads out his hand. "Honest, Shorty," says he, "I was only after a handful of Turkish cigarettes from the smokin' room. I wouldn't touched another thing; cross m' heart, I wouldn't!" "'Ear 'im!" says the Britisher. "And 'im caught prowlin' through the 'ouse!" With that he gives Rusty a shake that must have loosened his back teeth, and prods him on once more. "Ah, say," says I, "you ain't got no call to break his back even if he was prowlin'. Cut it out, you big mucker, or----" Say, I shouldn't have done it, seein' where I was; but the ugly look on his mug as he lifts his knee again seems to pull the trigger of my right arm, and I swings in one on that punkin head like I was choppin' wood. He drops Rusty and comes at me with a rush, windmill fashion, and I'm so happy for the next two minutes, givin' him what he needs, that I've mussed up his countenance a lot before I sends in the one that finds the soft spot on his jaw and lands him on the grass. "Here, here!" shouts Mr. Twombley-Crane, comin' up just as his man does the back shoulder fall. "Why, McCabe, what does this mean?" "Nothin' much," says I, "except that I ain't in love with your particular way of speedin' the partin' guest." "Guest!" says he, flushin' up. "The fellow was caught prowling. Besides, by what right do you question my method of getting rid of a sneak thief?" "Oh, I don't stop for rights in a case of this kind," says I. "I just naturally butts in. I happens to know that Rusty here, ain't any more of a thief than I am. If you've got a charge to make, though, I'll see that he's in court when----" "I don't care to bother with the police," says he. "I merely want the fellow kicked off the place." "Sorry to interfere with your plans," says I; "but he's been kicked enough. I'll lead him off, though, and guarantee he don't come back, if that'll do?"