'He's more than a match for you and your crew,' said one.

'Is he?' sneered Dalton.

'He's proved it.'

'Has he?'

'Yes, and he'll prove it again if you ruffle him about his son.'

Abe Dalton swore, and looking at the speaker said,—

'I'll say what I like about Jim Dennis, or any other man; and as for that lad, why, he's only a half-caste. Ask black Sal if he isn't.'

Abe Dalton suddenly felt a pressure at the back of his neck, and he was swung round as though he had been on a pivot.

'You say that again, you cur, and I'll smash your face in!' said Dr Tom. 'If Jim Dennis heard you he'd screw your head off. Get away from me. You are not fit to touch!' and Dr Tom flung Dalton against the side of the bar, where he had to clutch at the railing to prevent himself falling.

There was a chorus of approval from those present, for Abe Dalton was hated as much as Dr Tom and Jim Dennis were liked.