“Well, this beats!” he gasped. “It must be the police of this city are dead slow, or else they are standing in with the parties who are running this fight. If they were not, they’d be dead certain to catch on.”
He looked around for Rafferty and Muldoon, but could see nothing of them.
“I’m certain they came in here,” he muttered. “They must be somewhere in this crowd.” He moved about to find them, being obliged to crowd his way about.
“Hi, there, young feller! ye’re treadin’ on my toes!”
“I beg your pardon,” said Frank, as politely as he could.
“Waal, ye’d better!” growled the big man, glaring at him. “What’re you in here fer, anyhow? Ye’re nothin’ but a boy. This ain’t no place fer you.”
Frank attempted to move away, but the arm of the man shot out, and Merry was collared.
“You go home to your mammy, youngster,” advised the fellow, starting to drag Frank to the door.
“Toss him out, McGinty!”
“Give him the bounce, slugger!”