“Call an officer!” palpitated the woman. “Quick, before he gets away!”
“He shall not get away,” declared a big man with a crooked eye, glowering at Frank. “If he tries it, I’ll attend to him!”
“Looks like a would-be masher,” piped a slim man, with a very long neck, ducking and nodding his head in an odd manner. “He should be taught a lesson.”
One or two others expressed themselves in a similar manner.
Frank had thought of making a break and hastening away, but now he saw it would not do, for he would have a howling mob at his heels the instant he attempted such a move. He realized it would seem cowardly to run away in such a manner, and would look like a confession of guilt, which caused him to decide to stay and face it out, even though the predicament was most embarrassing.
“Gentlemen,” he said, looking squarely at them, and seeming to pay very little attention to the mysterious woman, even though he was perfectly on his guard, not knowing what move she might make next, “I trust you will give me a chance to explain what has happened.”
“Explain it in the police court,” growled the big man with a crooked eye. “That’s the proper place for you to make your explanations.”
“The judge will listen to you,” cried the slim man, his head bobbing on his long neck, like the head of a crane that is walking along the edge of a marsh.
“Don’t attempt to escape by means of falsehoods, you rascal!” almost shouted the little man with the red whiskers, bristling up in a savage manner, but dodging back the moment Frank turned on him.
“Gentlemen, I have been insulted by this fellow!” came from behind the baffling veil worn by the woman. “He is a low wretch, who attacked me in a most brutal manner.”