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BLUE PETER
103

fell. Archer and the others breasted the bright surge of flowers in the garden, and ran upon them all in a victorious scuffle. It was more than two to one, and with old Lehane surrounded, the fight was laughably simple.

Archer found himself shoving off an over-zealous deck-hand who would have Kellum. The old man sat against the red stone wall, his little knees drawn up with a comical air of comfort, but a red stream from his cheekbone trickling into his yellow-stained beard.

"He hit me a proper hard poke," he was muttering, dazed but philosophic. "It could n't 'a' come square on, though."

Helen appeared from somewhere with towels, a basin, and a bottle. Her brown eyes sought Archer's for one bright instant, and then she was at work over Kellum, deftly and sensibly. The old man looked up at her like a dirty, bearded child.

"Ye done well, Hugh," said the deep voice of Peter. The two big men grinned at each other like schoolboys. Peter was breath-