So did the crowds who pressed back into the place through
the inner door. So did the barman. So did the landlord, who had
made a cautious appearance through a trapdoor. Billy the Tanner,
for the first time in his life, was fighting a better man. For
two years he had been the terror of the neighbourhood, and he
showed now that at least he had courage. His smattering of
science, however, appeared only ridiculous. Once, through sheer
strength and blundering force, he broke down his opponent's guard
and struck him in the place that had dispatched many a man
before--just over the heart. His present opponent scarcely
winced, and Billy the Tanner paid the penalty then for his years
of bullying. His antagonist paused for a single second, as though
unnerved by the blow. Red fire seemed to stream from his eyes.
Then it was all over. With a sickening crash, Billy the Tanner
went down upon the sanded floor. It was no matter of a count for
him. He lay there like a dead man, and from the two doors the
hidden spectators streamed into the room. Sir Timothy laid some
money upon the table.
"This fellow insulted me and my friend," he said. "You see, he
has paid the penalty. If he misbehaves again, the same thing
will happen to him. I am leaving some money here with your
barman.
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