‘Seize him, Boatswain!’ shouted the scoundrel, and the dog, nothing loth sprang at the young man, and before he could place himself on his guard, had fastened his teeth in his vest. At the same instant, Monteagle, sparing the brute, aimed his pistol at the owner and snapped the trigger. The ball just grazed one of the fat cheeks of the rascal, who, thereupon, threw himself upon the youth and begun to pummel him with his fists. It must be remembered that Monteagle had not yet recovered from his wound. Nevertheless, he defended himself bravely. But Blodget, as soon as he saw the conduct of the wretch, gave him a blow on the side of his head that felled him like an ox. At the same time, the dog left Monteagle and seized Blodget. Monteagle threw his pistol at the dog, and hit him in the side without doing him much damage; but Blodget turned quickly and drove a short, sharp dagger to the hilt in the animal’s breast. That finished the business for the dog. But his savage owner was about stabbing Blodget in the back with a long, two-edged knife when Monteagle gave him a sudden push, which sent him reeling to the distance of several paces. Blodget and his enemy then encountered each other face to face, and as both were armed with deadly instruments, the issue would have been bloody had not several of the crowd, which had by this time clustered around the combatants, plucked them asunder. The stout man swore and threatened vengeance, and as he struggled hard to get away from those who held him, he was finally thrust out of doors with some violence. He was heard, for some time, prowling outside and threatening all manner of vengeance against Monteagle and Blodget, especially the latter whom he charged with all manner of crimes, and who, he said, would long since have been hanged if half his offences were known to the public. All this passed for the ravings of baffled rage; and although it seemed to excite anger of Blodget, nobody else seemed to deem it worthy of the least notice. The gallant manner in which Blodget had espoused his cause, completely won the confidence of Monteagle, and when he said to the youth, ‘Come, now that rascal of a Sintown has been turned out, we will just amuse ourselves here, if you have no objection.’ ‘Sintown, is his name? it seems to me that I have heard that name. Was he not once arrested for robbing a Mexican?’ ‘Something of that sort, I believe,’ returned Blodget, glancing stealthily at the youth, ‘but there was no proof of his guilt.’ ‘Proof—there is proof enough in the scoundrel’s eye and, indeed, in all the rest of his features, to hang a dozen men.’ Blodget smiled pensively and drew Monteagle to the table. After playing a little while, Monteagle lost a couple of slugs, when Blodget took his arm and said, ‘Come, my good fellow, the luck goes against you to-night. You must wait till Madame Fortune, who, according to Bonaparte, always favors the young, is in a better mood.’