There was a roar from the mob, and the instant of silence dissolved into a melee again. Rick turned back to see how his friends were doing and saw a fist coming at him. He tried to bring his hands up, but he was too slow. The fist got bigger and bigger and bigger and exploded into bright lights. His knees buckled. He drifted off into peace and quiet. CHAPTER XX Home Flight "The Golden Mouse," Keaton-Yeats said judiciously, "is rapidly becoming a purple mouse." He tilted Rick's face to the light. "I also see other colors. By the time you get home, a rainbow will be rather pale and dull by comparison." "I got a mouse hung on me all right," Rick said. "And I didn't even see who did it." "I did," Scotty volunteered. "It was a British seaman. Chahda polished him off with a bottle before you even hit the floor." Zircon wrapped gauze around Bradley's knuckles. "For an ethnologist, which is a peaceful profession, you are mighty quick to take offense," he stated. "My boss is a sudden man," Chahda said from the bed where he lay with a wet cloth on his head. They were in their room at the Peninsular Hotel. Rick had recovered under the urging of a bucket of water in the hands of Canton Charlie. He was still wet. He stripped off his shirt and grinned as he looked around him. All of them bore souvenirs. His own probably was the most colorful, consisting of a black eye that covered nearly half of his face. Scotty had a welt across his forehead that would last several days. Bradley had lost most of the skin off the knuckles of his right hand. Zircon moved gingerly, favoring his bruised ribs. Chahda and Keaton-Yeats bore painful egg-shaped lumps from swung bottles. "Happens at Charlie's every night," Bradley said. "Can't disappoint the customers. Only a question of who starts it. Tonight I happened to be the one. You get so you rather enjoy it after a while." "As a sport, it will never replace checkers," Scotty said. He winced as his fingers explored the welt on his forehead. Rick chuckled. He could see what Bradley meant. As long as Canton Charlie's shotgun ensured fair play, to the extent of no knives, it was just a free-for-all such as might happen anywhere--at least where seamen gathered. "It's like swimming in cold water," he said. "Getting in is tough, but it's kind of fun once you've made the plunge." Bradley flexed his bandaged hand. "That's right. Now, it's getting late and I still want to hear about your experiences. Hobart, want to pick up where we left off?" They found seats on the beds and in the wicker chairs while the big scientist told of their adventures in Korse Lenken, with assists from the boys. When he had finished, Keaton-Yeats sighed. "I wish now I'd gone with you," he said. "Nothing dull where you Americans go. While you were barging around caves, I was making change at the bank. Very dull." "I guess that ties up all the loose ends," Bradley said. "And it makes quite a package."