Alexander, Nicholas, and Ivan sprang forward with cries of mingled rage and horrified warning. The Rider, seeing his opportunity, also turned upon his captor; but Dimmie, still smiling good naturedly, let drive a smashing right that caught the would be deliverer of The Rider full in the mouth and sent him sprawling backward upon the floor. Then he wheeled upon The Rider just as the latter seized him about the body, reached quickly over his shoulders, caught him around the waist, and, lifting him bodily from the floor, hurled him completely over his head.

In the mean time the three guardsmen were engaged with others of the roughs who had entered the fracas in the defense of their friends. No weapons had been drawn upon either side-as yet it was but a rough and tumble fist fight. The revolver which Dimmie had held when he entered the room he had slipped inside his shirt with its fellow, and now that he had disposed temporarily of the two who had attacked him he ran to the assistance of his friends.

Ivan and Nicholas were holding their own with ease; but three men had engaged Alexander at once, and he was in a fair way to being beaten into insensibility when Dimmie leaped upon the back of one of his adversaries, hurled him aside, and struck another a blow upon the chin that might have dropped a horse. As the third attempted to scramble from his path, the young man swung his foot in a kick that sent the fellow sprawling beneath a table.

Tillie, appalled by the dimensions and ferocity of the fracas, had retreated to the side of the room, where she stood with Bakla and the trembling Peter, wringing her hands and screaming out a torrent of invective. Beside her and next to Bakla stood the surly rough who had been the first to recognize The Rider. He had taken no part in the fight, and now one of his friends discovered him, and taunted him with his seeming cowardice.

The man muttered an oath, and turning to Bakla, said: "If the fools knew who they were fighting with they'd break all your windows trying to see which could get out of here first and lose himself in the woods."

"What do you mean?" asked Bakla. "Can they not see that they are attacking officers of The Black Guard?"

"I don't mean them fellows," growled the man. "It's the other-do you mean to say you don't none of you know who he is?"

"Why of course I know who he is," cried the girl. "He has been coming here for months-he is M. Dimmie."

"M. Dimmie, hell," cried the man. "That's-," and he leaned close to Bakla's ear and whispered a name that brought her eyes and mouth open in incredulous astonishment.

The fight seemed to be going all the guardsmen's way, when The Rider bolted suddenly for the door. Dimmie sprang across a table in a mad effort to head off the escaping bandit, and the two met before the exit. Once again The Rider went down before the superior skill of his antagonist; and Dimmie turned with his back to the doorway as Alexander, Ivan, and Nicholas ran to his side.

A laugh was on the lips of the conqueror of the redoubtable highwayman as the latter crawled to his feet, nursing a bloody nose with one hand, and, turning to his friends, who were now grouped in sullen defiance before the bar, called to them to rush the four at the doorway and make good their escape.

"I was afraid the fun was over, Ivan," said Dimmie; "but evidently it has only begun."

"Come!" whispered Alexander, in his ear. "The door is behind us-let's get out of here before any blood is spilled. The thing has gone far enough. These fellows are getting nasty, and there is no telling what may happen-there are more than a few knives and revolvers in that crowd."

"Never!" cried Dimmie. "I am having the time of my life, old killjoy; and I'm going to stick for the finish. Run, if you want to-the door is there, and we will cover your retreat."

Alexander flushed. "You know that I would not desert you," he cried. "I only thought of the danger to your"...

"Sh-sh-sh!" admonished Dimmie with a gesture of arrogance. "Forget it!"

The roughs were advancing slowly across the barroom, when one of them passing a table which had not been overturned in the previous scrimmage, seized an empty bottle and hurled it viciously at the four guardsmen. It grazed Dimmie's head and splintered on the oak panel behind him. Instantly Alexander leaped in front of his friend, and drew his sword.

"Stop!" he cried. "This has gone far enough. In the king's name, I command you to halt where you are!"

The answer to his order was a volley of glasses and bottles. Ivan seized a small table and raised it as a shield before them. Nicholas drew his sword and took his place on one side of the improvised barrier, while Alexander held the other.

At sight of the drawn weapons the crowd of cutthroats and thieves cast discretion to the winds.