The captain of the Seamew held the two struggling, cursing men as though they were small boys.  His eyes flamed a question at the girl.  She understood and nodded, if ever so faintly.

“I ought to send both of you to the hospital,” said Tunis in a grim voice.  “But I’m satisfied if you beg her pardon and let her go.”  This to the restaurant proprietor.

The man opened his lips to emit something besides an apology, although the smaller man was already quelled.  But the look in Tunis Latham’s face made the black-haired man pause.

“Well, she can’t cause a disturbance here.  But I meant no offense.”

The smaller man hastened to add: 

“So help me!  I was that mad I didn’t know what I said.  I didn’t mean nothing.”

Tunis nodded solemnly.

“Get your coat and hat, miss,” he said.  “I guess it won’t be a pleasant place for you to work in after this.”

She slipped away.  Tunis let the men go.  They both stepped away from him, panting, relaxing their shoulders, eyeing the young captain with as much curiosity as apprehension.

Suddenly there was an added commotion at the front door.  Tunis saw a policeman enter.  The coarse-featured proprietor of the restaurant instantly recovered all his courage.

“This way, officer!  This way!” he cried.  “Here’s the man.”

At that moment Tunis felt a tug at his coat.  He flashed a glance over his shoulder.  It was the girl.  She wore a little hat pulled down over all that black hair, and she was buttoning a shabby jacket.  There was a way out by the alley; he well knew it.  Nor was he anxious of appearing before either a police lieutenant or a magistrate for creating a disturbance in the place.

“Run along.  I’ll be right behind you,” he whispered.

The policeman was some distance, and several tables away.  Tunis looked to see if all was clear.  The girl was just passing through the swinging door into the kitchen.  Tunis stepped back, turned suddenly, while the restaurant proprietor was making ready to address the policeman, and leaped for the rear exit.

“There he goes!” squealed the patron who had been the cause of the trouble.

But nobody stopped Tunis Latham.  At a flash, when he got into the kitchen, he saw the girl opening the outer door.  The way was clear.  He crossed the room in several quick strides and caught up with her.  The startled chef and his assistants merely stared.

The alley was empty, but they walked swiftly away from the square.  The arc lamp on the corner which they approached sputtered continuously, like soda water bubbling out of a bottle.  He looked down at her curiously in the flickering illumination from this lamp and found the girl looking up at him just as curiously.

“That was an unwise thing to do.  You might have been arrested,” she said, ever so gently.  Then she added:  “And it has cost me my job.”