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"Get back you!" he bawled, sending half a dozen men spinning with

sweeps of his great arms. "I'll fight this Frenchy. Just let me

at him!"

Code saw the rage in Pete's eyes and recognized that he could do

nothing more to avert the trouble. His part would have to be

confined to seeing that his man got a fair deal. He and Pete were

unarmed except for their huge clasp-knives--much better kept out

of sight under the circumstances.

The crowd fell back, and the two giants stripped off their coats

and shirts. The Frenchman danced up and down, beating his great

fists together in a fine frenzy, but Pete, half-crouched, stepped

forward on his toes, his hands hanging loose and ready at his

sides.

"Allez, donc!" It was the starting word, and Jean leaped in. Pete

met him with a crashing right to the ribs and dodged out of reach

of the clutching hands that reached for his throat. They circled

around a moment and again the Frenchman came, this time in one

great leap.