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He looked down at her, dazed and bewildered. His breath was coming in great shuddering gasps.

“What are you... doing... here?”

“We’re at the hall. Promise me you won’t fight again—that you’ll go home. Promise me.” Her voice was urgent.

“All right,” he answered thickly. “If Hicky isn’t badly damaged I’ll go.”

The injured man had risen. He was dazed, but apparently uninjured. Waring again was at Ann’s side.

“Is he hurt?” she asked.

“No, only knocked out, But he’s taken all the punishment he wants for the moment—come away.”

Ann moved back to the hall beside him.

Later, driving back to Tirau, she heard Vera and Holmes in the front seat discussing the encounter.

“It’s lucky for Marsh that the constable didn’t take him in charge this evening,” said Vera.

“Shaw very wisely goes to bed early on race night,” replied Holmes drily.

“I suppose that idiotic youth has lost most of the money he won today.”

“About a hundred of it, I believe.”

“He’ll have lost it all before breakfast-time.”

“I don’t think so. He went home directiy after the fight.”

He’d kept his promise, then! Ann’s sore heart knew a little healing.