“Thump ’em! Hammer ’em! Slug ’em!”
Uttering these cries, the roughs pitched into the college boys. Fists began to fly, and there was a hot time on that corner without delay.
The little cop rapped for assistance. While he was doing this, Browning gave him a twist and a fling that broke his hold and sent him flying into Bart Hodge’s arms.
Hodge was thoroughly aroused.
“You’re the cause of all this trouble, you little red-headed fool!” he grated.
Then, with a display of strength that was astonishing, Bart lifted the officer and hurled him violently against a stone hitching-post. With a gasp and a groan, the policeman dropped down limply and lay on the ground as if he had been shot.
Bart was astonished by the remarkable manner in which the little man had been knocked out. He paused and stared at the motionless figure, a feeling of dismay beginning to creep over him, for he realized that his ungovernable temper had once again led him to do an act that he would not have done in his sober moments.
“Great Scott!” shakily cried Ned Noon. “You’ve killed him, Hodge!”
Bart said nothing, but he felt a pressure about his heart—a sickening sensation.
It seemed that Noon was the only one of the party engaged in the struggle who witnessed Bart’s thoughtless act of anger. The others were far too busy among themselves.