That man’s wrist was broken as if it had been a pipestem, and the knife fell to the ground.
Dick had broken it by a trick, knowing just exactly how to accomplish the feat.
A howl rose from the wretch, but the boy gave him no further attention.
He turned to look for Nadia.
Fortunately Brad Buckhart had reached the girl and in an encounter of this sort the Texan was second only to Dick Merriwell. In fact, Brad fought with more slashing fury than did Dick, but not with the same quick wit and instant decision on the right course to pursue.
The Texan had proved assistance enough, however, for he had rescued Nadia and knocked down the man who was seeking to force her into the carriage. The latter fell under the feet of the horses. The animals reared and trampled on him. He screamed, and the horses plunged away, the black driver apparently letting them go, instead of seeking to stop them.
The moment the carriage was gone the men who had attacked Nadia seemed to be swallowed by the crowd that surged round. The one with the broken wrist vanished, and even the fellow who had been trampled by the horse could not be found. It was easy for the other two to disappear in the crowd, for any one of a hundred men there might have been taken for either of them.
Dunbar Budthorne, pale and shaking with excitement, finally reached his sister, finding her clinging to Brad, who was supporting her with one arm.
Dick was on the other side of Nadia.
“Sister!” exclaimed Dunbar huskily; “have those brutes——”