Almost involuntarily he staggered up to receive another blow which senthim down again.

　　"That'll do," said a voice.

　　Sheen got up, panting. Between him and his assailant stood a short,sturdy man in a tweed suit. He was waving Albert back, and Albertappeared to be dissatisfied. He was arguing hotly with the newcomer.

　　"Now, you go away," said that worthy, mildly, "just you go away."Albert gave it as his opinion that the speaker would do well not tocome interfering in what didn't concern him. What he wanted, assertedAlbert, was a thick ear.

　　"Coming pushing yourself in," added Albert querulously.

　　"You go away," repeated the stranger. "You go away. I don't want tohave trouble with you."Albert's reply was to hit out with his left hand in the direction ofthe speaker's face. The stranger, without fuss, touched the back ofAlbert's wrist gently with the palm of his right hand, and Albert,turning round in a circle, ended the manoeuvre with his back towardshis opponent. He faced round again irresolutely. The thing hadsurprised him.

　　"You go away," said the other, as if he were making the observation forthe first time.

　　"It's Joe Bevan," said one of Albert's friends, excitedly.

　　Albert's jaw fell. His freckled face paled.

　　"You go away," repeated the man in the tweed suit, whose conversationseemed inclined to run in a groove.

　　This time Albert took the advice. His friends had already taken it.

　　"Thanks," said Sheen.

　　"Beware," said Mr Bevan oracularly, "of entrance to a quarrel; but,being in, bear't that th' opposed may beware of thee. Always counterback when you guard. When a man shows you his right like that, alwayspush out your hand straight. The straight left rules the boxing world.

　　Feeling better, sir?""Yes, thanks.""He got that right in just on the spot. I was watching. When you see aman coming to hit you with his right like that, don't you draw back.

　　Get on top of him. He can't hit you then."That feeling of utter collapse, which is the immediate result of a blowin the parts about the waistcoat, was beginning to pass away, and Sheennow felt capable of taking an interest in sublunary matters once more.

　　His ear smarted horribly, and when he put up a hand and felt it thepain was so great that he could barely refrain from uttering a cry.

　　But, however physically battered he might be, he was feeling happierand more satisfied with himself than he had felt for years. He had beenbeaten, but he had fought his best, and not given in. Some portion ofhis self-respect came back to him as he reviewed the late encounter.

　　Mr Bevan regarded him approvingly.

　　"He was too heavy for you," he said. "He's a good twelve stone, I makeit. I should put you at ten stone--say ten stone three. Call it ninestone twelve in condition. But you've got pluck, sir."Sheen opened his eyes at this surprising statement.