"That's enough--that's enough!" cried the boy, fronting M'Ginnis, fierce-eyed. "Nobody ain't goin' t' speak about Hermy that way." "Y' can't help it, Kid. Here's this guy Geoff, this pal o' yours--been with her--in her flat with her, all th' mornin'--ain't he, Soapy?" "'S' right, Kid!" nodded that pallid individual, the smouldering cigarette a-swing between pale lips; and, though he addressed Spike, his furtive eyes, watching aslant between narrowed lids, glittered to behold M'Ginnis's scowling brow; also the wolverine mouth curled faintly, so that the pendulous cigarette stirred and quivered. "Oh, I'm handin' ye the straight goods, Kid," M'Ginnis went on. "I'm puttin' ye wise because you're my pal, an' because I've known Hermy an' been kind o' soft about her since we was kids." "Well, then, you know she--she ain't that sort," said Spike, his voice quavering oddly. "So--don't you--say no more--see?" "All right, Kid, all right--only I don't like t' see this pal o' yours gettin' in his dirty work behind your back. If anything happens--don't blame me--" "What--what you tryin' t' tell me--you Bud?" questioned Spike, between quivering lips. "I'm tellin' ye things are gettin' too warm--oh, Hermy ain't the icicle she tries t' make out she is." "An' I'm tellin' you--you're a liar, Bud M'Ginnis--a dirty liar!" cried the boy. M'Ginnis's bull neck swelled; between his thick, black brows a vein swelled and pulsed. Viewing this, Soapy's glittering eyes blinked, and the pendulous cigarette quivered faintly again. "Now by--" began M'Ginnis, lifting menacing fist; then his arm sank, and he shook his big, handsome head. "Oh, pshaw!" he exclaimed, "I guess you're all worked up, Kid, so I ain't takin' no notice. But savvy this, Kid, if Hermy ain't goin' t' marry me on th' level, she ain't goin' t' let this guy have her--the other way--not much! I guess you ain't forgotten little Maggie Finlay? Well, watch out your pal Geoff don't make Hermy go th' same." Uttering a wild, inarticulate cry, the lad sprang--to be caught in M'Ginnis's powerful grasp, but, even so, his fist grazed M'Ginnis's full-lipped mouth. For a moment Spike strove desperately to reach Bud's grim-smiling face until, finding his efforts vain, he ceased all at once, bowed his head upon his arms, and burst into a passion of bitter sobbing; then, with an agile twist, he wrenched himself free, and turning, sped away, heedless of his jaunty straw hat that had fallen and lay upon the dusty sidewalk. Languidly Soapy stooped and picked it up. "His noo lid!" said he. "Only bought t'day, I reckon!" "Gee!" exclaimed M'Ginnis, staring after Spike's fleeing figure, already far away, "he sure was some peevish!" "Some!" nodded Soapy. "If he'd happened t' have a gun handy, here's where you'd have cashed in for good, I reckon. Yes, Bud, you'd be deader 'n' mutton!" sighed Soapy, turning Spike's hat around upon his finger. "You'd be as dead as--little Maggie Finlay you was mentionin'!"