It was at this point that Zanin came in. He saw Peter, crowded bruskly across the room, laid a legal appearing document on the table at Peter's elbow and said: “Look this over, Peter, and meet me up-stairs a little later. Their man is coming. They give us no choice--we must sign to-night.” Peter squared around at the first tones of the strong, slightly husky voice, drew in his chin, scowled. It appeared to the Worm that he was making a desperate effort to look dignified. But at the last words, Zanin dropped a large hand on Peter's shoulder. That was what made the tremble; or rather what set it off. I have explained that the Muscovy occupied a basement. The ceiling was low. The tables--small ones around the walls and two longer ones across the center space with their chairs (common kitchen chairs, they were) filled the room except for an opening near the door. In the opening, at one side of the door, was the small table that served as a cashier's desk. It was covered with slips of paper and little heaps of coin and some bank notes under an iron paper-weight. The whole in charge of a meek girl with big spectacles. There were twenty-five or thirty persons in the room--mostly women and girls. Of the four or five men, two, in a party near the door, were painters with soft curling beards; the others, young anarchists and talkers, were seated over in the farther corner near one of the barred front windows. A feature of the scene that Henry Bates will never forget was that Peter first rose, very deliberately, produced an eye-glass case from an inner pocket and carefully put his glasses away. Then he sprang at Zanin--apparently not striking cleanly with clenched fists but clawing and slapping, and shouting breathlessly. I suppose that in every man who has been a boy and a youth there is a strain of vulgarity, innate or acquired. It is exhibited when reason flees. Reason had certainly, at last, fled from Peter. For what he was shouting was this----over and over--“A Jew won't fight! A Jew won't fight!” In the surprise of this first rush Zanin retreated, sparring ineffectually; backed into the corner of a table; crashed over it; went down with it to the floor amid broken dishes, steaming food and the wreckage of a chair. Two young women were thrown also. One of them screamed; the other appeared to be stunned, and the Worm somehow got to her, lifted her up and supported her out the service door to the kitchen. [Illustration: 0245]