and having still the remnants of manhood about him, he did feel it.
He gave one pitiful, appealing look at her face, but saw no mercy there.
She stamped her foot again, jabbed her forefinger at the door,
and said, "Go-o-o!" in a tone that startled the majority of the company
nearly as much as it did Danny. Then Yankee Jack threw down his cards,
rose from the table, laid his strong, shapely right hand -- not roughly --
on Danny's ragged shoulder, and engineered the drunk gently through the door.

"You's better go out for a while, Danny," he said; "there wasn't much harm
in what you said, but your cheque's gone, and that makes all the difference.
It's time you went back to the station. You've got to be careful
what you say now."

When Jack returned to the parlour the barmaid had a smile for him;
but he didn't take it. He went and stood before the fire,
with his foot resting on the fender and his elbow on the mantelshelf,
and looked blackly at a print against the wall before his face.

"The old beast!" said Alice, referring to Danny. "He ought to be
kicked off the place!"

"HE'S AS GOOD AS YOU!"

The voice was Jack's; he flung the stab over his shoulder,
and with it a look that carried all the contempt he felt.

She gasped, looked blankly from face to face, and witheringly
at the back of Jack's head; but that didn't change colour
or curl the least trifle less closely.