Then Keith turned to the girl: 

“Come; I will see you home.”

The noise had attracted the attention of others besides Gordon Keith.  Just at this juncture a stout policeman turned the curve at a double-quick.

As he did so, Wickersham rose and slipped away.

“What th’ devil ’rre ye doin’?” the officer demanded in a rich brogue before he came to a halt.  “I’ll stop this racket.  I’ll run ye ivery wan in.  I’ve got ye now, me foine leddy; I’ve been waitin’ for ye for some time.”  He seized Lois by the arm roughly.

“Let her go.  Take your hand off that lady, sir.  Don’t you dare to touch her.”  Keith stepped up to him with his eyes flashing and hand raised.

“And you too.  I’ll tache you to turn this park into—­”

“Take your hand off her, or I’ll make you sorry for it.”

“Oh, you will!” But at the tone of authority he released Lois.

“What is your name?  Give me your number.  I’ll have you discharged for insulting a lady,” said Keith.

“Oh, me name’s aall right.  Me name’s Mike Doherty—­Sergeant Doherty.  I guess ye’ll find it on the rolls right enough.  And as for insultin’ a leddy, that’s what I’m goin’ to charrge against ye—­that and—­”

“Why, Mike Doherty!” exclaimed Keith.  “I am Mr. Keith—­Gordon Keith.”

“Mr. Keith!  Gordon Keith!” The big officer leant over and looked at Keith in the gathering dusk.  “Be jabbers, and so it is!  Who’s your leddy friend?” he asked in a low voice.  “Be George, she’s a daisy!”

Keith stiffened.  The blood rushed to his face, and he started to speak sharply.  He, however, turned to Lois.

“Miss Huntington, this is an old friend of mine.  This is Mike Doherty, who used to be the best man on the ship when I ran the blockade as a boy.”

“The verry same,” said Mike.

“He used to teach me boxing,” continued Keith.

“I taaught him the left upper-cut,” nodded the sergeant.

Keith went on and told the story of his coming on a man who was annoying Miss Huntington, but he did not give his name.

“Did ye give him the left upper-cut?” demanded Sergeant Doherty.

“I am not sure that I did not,” laughed Keith.  “I know he went down over there where you saw him lying—­and I have ended one or two misunderstandings with it very satisfactorily.”

“Ah, well, then, I’m glad I taaught ye.  I’m glad ye’ve got such a good defender, ma’am.  Ye’ll pardon what I said when I first coomed up.  But I was a little over-het.  Ye see, this place is kind o’ noted for—­for—­This place is called ‘Snugglers’ Roost.’  Nobody comes here this time ’thout they’rre a little aff, and we has arders to look out for ’em.”

“I am glad I had two such defenders,” said Lois, innocently.

“I’m always glad to meet Mr. Keith’s friends—­and his inimies too,” said the sergeant, taking off his helmet and bowing.  “If I can sarve ye any time, sind worrd to Precin’t XX, and I’ll be proud to do it.”