“The revolver, still smoking, was in Jimmy’s hand: Salvas, his right arm dripping with blood, was standing by the door, while his two pals were crouching behind the table, looking for all the world like wild beasts waiting to spring. “‘Next time,’ said Jimmy, ‘I shoot to kill.’ “And he meant it. He was a bit white round the nostrils, which is a darned dangerous sign in a man, especially if he’s got a gun and you’re looking down the business end of it. And no one knew it better than those three Dagos. They went on snarling, but not one of them moved an eyelid. “‘Put your knives on that table, you scum,’ ordered Jimmy. “The other two obeyed, and he laughed contemptuously. “‘Now clear out. You pollute the air.’ “For a moment or two they hesitated: then Salvas, with a prodigious effort, regained his self-control. “‘You are brave, Señor Mainwaring, when you have a revolver and we are unarmed,’ he said, with a sneer. “In two strides Jimmy was at the table where the knives were lying. He picked one up, threw me his gun, and pointed to the other knife. “‘I’ll fight you now, Salvas,’ he answered, quietly. ‘Knife to knife, and to a finish.’ “But the Dago wasn’t taking any, and ’pon my soul I hardly blamed him. For if ever a man was mad, Jimmy Mainwaring was mad that night: mad with the madness that knows no fear and is absolutely blind to consequences. “‘I do not brawl in bars with drunken Englishmen,’ remarked Salvas, turning on his heel. “A magnificent utterance, but ill-advised with Jimmy as he was. He gave a short laugh and took a running kick, and Don Pedro Salvas disappeared abruptly into the night. And the other two followed with celerity. “‘You’ll be getting into trouble, old man,’ I said, as he came back to the bar, ‘if you start that sort of game with the Dagos.’ “‘The bigger the trouble the more I’ll like it,’ he answered, shortly. ‘Give me another drink. Don’t you understand yet, Merton, that I’m beyond caring?’ “And thinking it over since, I’ve come to the conclusion that he spoke the literal truth. It’s a phrase often used, and very rarely meant; in his case it was the plain, unvarnished truth. Rightly or wrongly he had got into such a condition that he cared not one fig whether he lived or died; if anything he preferred the latter. And falling foul of the Dago colony was a better way than most of obtaining his preference. “Of course, the episode that night had shown me one thing: it was a woman who was at the bottom of it all. I didn’t ask any questions; he wasn’t a man who took kindly to cross-examination. But I realised pretty forcibly that if the mere handling of her picture by a Dago had produced such a result, the matter must be serious. Who she was I hadn’t any idea, or what was the trouble between them—and, as I say, I didn’t ask.