"I want you to go," answered Dave. "Go, do you hear?"

"Give me the jug and I go."

[Illustration: "Let go!" cried Dave. "Let go, I say!"]

"Not a drop. You have had too much already."

"Only haf one glass. Give the jug, like good fellow."

So speaking, Valette lurched over to the shelf and started to bring down
the jug once more. But ere he could do so, Dave had him by the arm and was
hauling him backward.

In a great rage at being thus thwarted, Jacques Valette began to struggle
with the youth. He was a powerful fellow, and for several minutes it looked
as if he would get the better of Dave. His hold was a good one, and soon he
threw the youth to the floor and held him there.

"Let go!" cried Dave. "Let go, I say!" and did his best to wrench himself
free.

It was in the midst of this struggle that James Morris rushed in, having
heard Dave's loud cry for assistance. He took in the situation at a glance,
and bending down, struck Valette on the side of the head.

"You brute, let my son go!"

Bewildered by the blow, the half-intoxicated Frenchman fell back and Dave
staggered to his feet, panting for breath. Valette had caught him by the