assailant.

"Cut it, Murray!" he commanded in a low tone of voice. "She isn't your
sort."

"Who the hell are you?" cried the labor leader, releasing the girl and
rising to his feet. "Get the hell out of here, you dirty hash-slinger!
Any girl in this place belongs to me if I want her. There don't only one
kind come in here without an escort, or with one, either, for that
matter. You get back on your job, where you belong," and the man pressed
forward trying to push Jimmy aside and lay hands on Elizabeth again.

Jimmy did not strike him then. He merely placed the palm of one hand
against the man's breast and pushed him backward, but with such force
that, striking a chair, Steve Murray fell backward and sprawled upon the
floor. Scrambling to his feet, he rushed Jimmy like a mad bull.

In his younger days Murray had been a boiler-maker, and he still
retained most of his great strength. He was a veritable mountain of a
man, and now in the throes of a berserker rage he was a formidable
opponent. His face was white and his lips were drawn back tightly,
exposing his teeth in a bestial snarl as he charged at Jimmy. His great
arms and huge hands beat to the right and left like enormous flails, one
blow from which might seemingly have felled an ox.

Torrance had stood for a moment with an arm still around the girl; but
as Murray rose to his feet he pushed her gently behind him, and then as
the man was upon him Jimmy ducked easily under the other's clumsy left
and swung a heavy right hook to his jaw. As Murray staggered to the
impact of the blow Jimmy reached him again quickly and easily with a