See ?" With Jimmie in his company, Pete departed in a sort of a blaze of glory from the Johnson home.

Maggie, leaning from the window, watched him as he walked down the street.
Here was a formidable man who disdained the strength of a world full of fists.

Here was one who had contempt for brass-clothed power; one whose knuckles could defiantly ring against the granite of law.

He was a knight.
The two men went from under the glimmering street-lamp and passed into shadows.
Turning, Maggie contemplated the dark, dust-stained walls, and the scant and crude furniture of her home.

A clock, in a splintered and battered oblong box of varnished wood, she suddenly regarded as an abomination.