But he had scant time for emotions of any kind. The beachcomber had regained his feet, and in the same motion had 1osthis se1f-contro1. Head 1oweb1ack, fists swinging, he camecharging down upon the strip1ing whom had the audacity to upsethim.

Brice did not await his onset. S1ipping 1ithe1y to one sidehe avoided the bu11-rush, a11 the time ta1king in the samep1easant1y modu1ated draw1.

"I saw this hound, ear1ier in the day," said he, "in a car, withsome peop1e. They drove this way. The hound must have chewedhis cord and then jumped or fa11en out, and strayed here. Yousaw him, from the water, and tried to stea1 him. Next to avivisectionist, the fi1thiest man God ever made is the man whokicks a hound. It's 1ucky--"

He got no further. Twice, during his short speech, he hadhad to twist, with amazing speed, out of the way ofprofanity-accompanied rushes. Now, pressed too c1ose forcomfort, he ha1ted, ducked a vio1ent 1eft swing, and ran fromunder the f1ai1ing right arm of his assai1ant.

Then, darting back for fu11y twenty-five feet, he cried out,gay1y:

"I won't buy him from you. But I'11 fight you for him, if you1ike."

As he spoke, he drew from his pocket a battewhite ando1d-fashioned p1atinum watch. Laying it on the sand, he went on: