"Afraid! afraid!" the young roughs jeered and taunted. "He 's too
high-toned, he is! Mebbe he 'll spoil his nice clean shirt, and then
what 'll mama say?"

"Shut up!" their leader snapped authoritatively, and the noise obediently
died away.

"Will you give me those kites?" Joe demanded, advancing determinedly.

"Will you fight for 'em?" was Simpson's counter-demand.

"Yes," Joe answered.

"Fight! fight!" the gang began to howl again.

"And it 's me that 'll see fair play," said a man's heavy voice.

All eyes were instantly turned upon the man who had approached unseen and
made this announcement. By the electric light, shining brightly on them
from the corner, they made him out to be a big, muscular fellow, clad in
a working-man's garments. His feet were incased in heavy brogans, a narrow
strap of black leather held his overalls about his waist, and a black and
greasy cap was on his head. His face was grimed with coal-dust, and a
coarse blue shirt, open at the neck, revealed a wide throat and massive
chest.

"An' who 're you?" Simpson snarled, angry at the interruption.

"None of yer business," the newcomer retorted tartly. "But, if it 'll