of printer's ink they're playing tennis with bank-checks over it. For I'm not the only thing he 's collared, I want y' to understand. He collared old Shotwell as well and shook that twenty-five-thousand-dollar draft out of him and has got it right here in his jeans while he's joy-riding on the back of my neck! But I'm tired of being bullyragged and manhandled and having my clothes spoilt, and if this rising star of suburban ring doesn't get his fingers out of my back hair inside of ten seconds I'm going to let loose with something more than ink before the day is over."
"Let him go!" commanded Gerry, in his most authoritative grand-jury voice. "This man is acting for Miss Hayden, is very generously and unselfishly acting for Miss Hayden."
"Am I now?" gritted Louis Lipsett, breathing hard and writhing his disordered clothing back into place.
"Well, so am I," averred Gunboat Dorgan as he tossed Teddie's much crumpled check out on the cherrywood table. "And
