dignified saunter. Bert, the trouble-seeker, pricked his ears to
the muffled sound of blows and sobs, and stepped aside to
investigate.

"Oh! look what I've found!" he called.

They joined him on the edge of a dry ditch and looked down. In
the bottom were two men, strays from the fight, grappled together
and still fighting. They were weeping out of sheer fatigue and
helplessness, and the blows they only occasionally struck were
open-handed and ineffectual.

"Hey, you, sport--throw sand in his eyes," Bert counseled.
"That's it, blind him an' he's your'n."

"Stop that!" Billy shouted at the man, who was following
instructions, "Or I'll come down there an' beat you up myself.
It's all over--d'ye get me? It's all over an' everybody's
friends. Shake an' make up. The drinks are on both of you. That's
right--here, gimme your hand an' I'll pull you out."

They left them shaking hands and brushing each other's clothes.

"It soon will be over," Billy grinned to Saxon. "I know 'em.
Fight's fun with them. An' this big scrap's made the days howlin'
success. What did I tell you!--look over at that table there."

A group of disheveled men and women, still breathing heavily,
were shaking hands all around.