more ungodly sound, and then the choking misery of a woman's convulsive
sobs.

Mrs. Slawson set her shoulder against the door, braced herself for a
mighty effort, and--

"Did you ever see the like of her?" muttered Sam, as, still busy
fastening the garments he had hurriedly pulled on, he followed his wife
into the Langbeins' flat, into the Langbeins' bedroom. There he saw her
resolutely march up to the irate German, swing him suddenly about, and
send him crashing, surprised, unresisting, to the opposite side of the
room. For a second she stood regarding him scornfully.

"You poor, low-lived Dutchman, you!" she brought out with deliberation.
"What d'you mean layin' your hand to a woman who hasn't the stren'th or
the spirit to turn to, an' lick you back? Why don't you fight a fella
your own size an' sect? That's fair play! A fine man _you_ are! A fine
neighbor _you_ are! Just let me hear a peep out of you, an' I'll thrash
you this minit to within a inch of your life. _I_ don't need no law nor
no policeman to keep the peace in any house where I live. I can keep the
peace myself, if I have to lick every tenant in the place! I'm the law
an' the policeman on my own account, an' if you budge from that floor
till I tell you get up, I'll come over there an' set down on ye so hard,
your wife won't know you from a pancake in the mornin'. I'll show you
the power o' the _press!"_

Sam Slawson was no coward, but his face was pallid with consternation at
Martha's hardihood. His mighty bulk, however, seeming to supplement
hers, had its effect on the sobered German. He did not attempt to rise.