With Rawlins by his side, he wedged his way into the crowd and the two were instantly swallowed up. But a moment later they reappeared, hats and collars awry, coats torn open, and panting.
“Whew!” exclaimed Mr. Henderson. “Might as well try to get through a solid wall. Hello! There’s another wagon!”
As he spoke, a bell clanged harshly and above the heads of the mob a car crowded with police could be seen forcing its way towards the center of the disturbance which appeared to be a large garage.
At this moment a huge, lumbering motor truck crept slowly from the garage door and an angry bellow rose from the crowd. But even an East Side mob must give way before a five-ton truck and the crowd, surging back to make way for the
truck, swept around the boys and the two cars and engulfed them like a sea of rough clothes and angry, grimy faces.
“How the dickens can we get clear now!” exclaimed Mr. Henderson, as to save themselves from being knocked down and trampled underfoot he and Rawlins leaped upon the running boards and flattened themselves against the body of the car.
“Expect we’ll have to stick here until the crowd leaves,” replied Mr. Pauling, and added, “Unless they pick us up car and all and carry us out.”
Now the crowd was surging still farther back as though pressed by an irresistible force and above the bellowing, moving, multicolored wave of human heads and shoulders appeared a half-dozen mounted police, their well-trained horses forcing back the human wall which, despite jeers, taunts, threats and imprecations, gave way steadily before them.
As the police drew near and the crowd thinned out, one of the officers caught sight of the two cars and their occupants.
“Here you!” he shouted, urging his horse towards the