The Holbrook news., 1922-07-07

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 It was unfortunate for the poet of Bohemia that at this precise moment Kitty Mason, dressed in sandals and lilac-patterned smock, stood before him with tray of cigarettes asking for his trade. The naive appeal in her soft eyes had its weight with the poet. l What Is the use of living in Bohemia ] If one cannot be free to follow i'm pulse? He slipped an arm about the l girl and kissed the crimson lips up- turned to him.
 Kitty started back with little cry of distress
 The freedom taken by the near-poet was instantly avenged.
 COsmic Urge beat in the veins of the savage from Arizona. He took the poets advice and followed his Law less Impulse where 1t led. Across the table long arm reached. Sinewy fingers closed upon the flowing neck wear of the fat-faced orator and dragged him forward. leaving over turned glasses in the wake of his course.
 The man in velveteens met the eyes of the energetic manhandler and quailed. This brown-faced barbarian looked very much like business.
 Don't you touch mel Don't you dare touch me !" the apostle of anarchy shrilled as the table crashed down. "I'll turn you over to the policel"
 Clay jerked him to his feet. Hard knuckles pressed cruelty into the soft throat of the villager. "Git down on yore ham bones anu beg the lady's par don. Tell her you're yellow pup, but you don't reckon you'll ever pull a bone like that again."
 The companions of the poet rushed forward to protest at the manhandling of their leader. Those in the rear jammed the front ones close to Clay and his captive. The COW pun,her gently but strongly pushed them back
 Don't get on the prod," he advised in his genial drawl. "The poet he's got an important engagement right now"
 A kind of scuffle developed. The pro- prietor increased 1t by his hysterical efforts to prevent any trouble. Men joined themselves to the noisy group of which Clay was the smiling center. The excitement increased. Distant corners of the room became the refuge of the women. Some one struck at the COW puncher over the heads of those about him. The mass of closely packed human beings showed a convulsive ac- tivity. It became suddenly the most popular indoor sport at the Sea Siren to slay this barbarian from the desert who had interfered with the amuse- ments of Bohemia.
 But Clay took a lot of staying. In the rough-and-tumble life of the out door West he had learned how to look out for his own hand. The copper hair of his strong lean head rose above the tangle of the melee like the bro- midic Helmet of Navarro. A reckless light of mirth 0ubbled in his dare devil eyes. The very number of the opponents who interfered with each other trying to get at him was O guar antee of safety. The blows showered at him lacked steam and were badly timed as to distance.
 The pack rolled across the room tipped over a table, and deluged an artist and his affinity with hot choco- late before they could escape from the | avalanche. Chairs went o-er like ninepins. Stands collapsed. Men .grunt- ed and shouted advice. Girls screamed The Sea Siren was being wrecked by a | cyclone from the bad lands.
 Arms threshed wildly to and fro. The local point of their destination was the | figure at the center of the disturbance | Most of the blows found other marks | Four or five men could have demol- ished Clay. Fifteen or twenty found it q tough job because they interfered with each other at every turn. They were packed too close for hard hitting Clay was not fighting but wrestling. He used his arms to push with rather | than to strike blows that counted.
 The Arizonan could not afterward remember at exactly what stage of the proceedings the face of Jerry Durand | impinged itself on his consciousness. Once, when the swirl of the crowd flung him close to the door, he caught glimpse of it, tight-lipped and wolf eyed. turned to him with relentless malice. The gang leader was taking no part in the fight.
 The crowd parted. Out of the pack pair of strong arms and lean broad shoulders plowed way for scme- 1 what damaged face that still carried debonair smile. With pantherish litheness the Arizonan 'ucke a swinging blow. A moment, and ne was outside taking the three steps that led to the street.
 Into his labOring lungs he drew de- licously the soft breath of the night. ! It cooled the fever of his hammered 1 face, was like an icy bath to his hot body. A little dizzy from the blows that had been rained on him. he stood | for a moment uncertain which way to | go.
 Then again he became aware of Durand. The man was not alone. He had with him a hulking ruffian whose heavy, hunched shoulders told of strength. There was hint of the gorilla In the way the long arms hung straight from the shoulders as he leaned forward. Both of the men were watching the COW puncher us steadily as alley cats do house finch.
 HIS going to pop in about three seconds" announced Clay to himself.
 Silently, without lifting their eyes from their victim tor an instant. the