the one in between, Iâd take home myself!â
Jessie gave no indication that she heard the exchange. The men were obviously drunk, and Jessie had learned that to pay any attention to drunken rowdies only encouraged them. For his part, Ki had long since learned to ignore such jibes. The man named Jug was not to be discouraged by being ignored, however.
âI might not let you take her, Slip,â he said. âI think I could do better for her than you could.â
âWell, either one of usâd be a step up from either of the two thatâs walking with her,â Slip commented.
âNow thatâs the truth,â Jug guffawed. âWell, Iâll tell you what, Slip. Iâll toss you for her.â
âYeah, youâre right, Jug. You or me, either one, could chew him up and spit him out and never know weâd did it.â
Jessie had seen Bobbyâs back stiffen when the big man made his first remark. They had reached the corner of the veranda now, and Jessie put her hand on Bobbyâs shoulder, hoping the boy would understand her gesture as a warning to pass on by without appearing to notice the rowdies.
Jug said to his companion, âYou know, now I see her closer, I got a good mind to see if sheâd like to have a real man for a change. That little piddling fellow that acts like her husband sure donât look to be man enough for a woman like her.â
Bobby, Jessie, and Ki were in front of the men now. Slip pointed at Ki and said, âWell, by God! Look at him, Jug! Heâs a damn chink!â
âNow sheâs way too good-lookinâ to be wasted on a piece of yellow-skin trash,â Jug replied. âLetâs just see if she donât feel the same way.â
Giving a hitch to his pistol belt, Jug stepped off the veranda to the sidewalk. He pushed Bobby into the street and planted himself in front of Jessie. Her head barely reached the big manâs shoulder. She looked at him with cold eyes, and for a moment the drunken rowdy hesitated.
On the veranda, Slip guffawed, âWhatâs wrong, Jug? Cat got your tongue? Or is your belly yellow, too?â
His companionâs words gave Jug the impetus he needed. He extended his hand, reaching for Jessieâs shoulder, and began, âLook here, little lady, youââ
Jessie had not attained Kiâs skill in hand-to-hand combat, but her work with him had given her more than enough ability to handle a clumsy hulk like Jug. He was not prepared for the quickness with which Jessie acted. Her hands darted forward with the speed and accuracy of striking snakes. With her left hand she grasped Jugâs hamlike hand, her strong fingers digging into the base of his thumb, her thumb pressing hard on the back of his hand to spread his palm. At the same time she wrapped her fingers around Jugâs wrist, yanked his arm forward, then twisted his wrist down while she shoved his elbow into his bulging belly.
When he saw that his companion was in trouble, Slip stepped off the veranda, his right hand moving by habit to the butt of his holstered revolver. At Jugâs first movement, Ki had dropped the suitcase he was carrying. Now he slid his left forearm into the crook of Slipâs elbow, and locked his right hand around the wrist of the hoodlumâs bent arm. Ki twisted Slipâs wrist to bring the rowdyâs hand palm-upward, then, using his own muscular forearm as a lever, he snapped the wrist down. Kiâs quick, expert pressure dislocated the manâs elbow. With the gargled scream of a wounded animal, Slip went to his knees, cradling his elbow in his left hand. Ki slid the thugâs revolver from its holster and tossed the weapon onto the shed roof that extended above the veranda.
Jug grunted with surprise as Jessieâs fingertips bit into the senstive muscles bunched in the base of his thumb. The yipping turned into a yowl of pain as she pulled his forearm down, gaining
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