The very size of the mob was in Locke’s favor, but it is doubtful whether he could have done much to help Elgin except for the unexpected giving way of the ticket booth. Slowly it began to sway under the tremendous pressure against one side. A door at the back was burst suddenly open, and the ticket agent dashed forth, clutching the cash drawer in both hands, only to trip and fall headlong, scattering money in every direction, and causing a new diversion. The crashing over of the booth was another, and for an instant Elgin was freed from the clutching hands which had held him prisoner.
Lefty darted forward, gripped the man by the shoulders, and dragged him into the angle made by the wrecked booth and one wall of the lobby. Petrified by fear, the fellow sank helplessly to the floor, and Locke had barely time to leap in front of him before the yelling crowd surged forward again.
In the second that he stood there waiting, the cub pitcher was conscious of a curious feeling which had come to him once or twice before at moments of great tension on the diamond. It was as if his brain had been wiped with a cold, wet sponge, clarifying his vision, and soothing his raw nerves to an almost uncanny degree.
He felt that there could be but one end to the encounter, and yet he was not afraid. He eyed the semicircle of angry faces calmly, coolly, appraisingly, mentally picking out the exact spot on the protruding jaw of the foremost man with which he meant to make connections an instant later. When the fellow went down before his beautiful swinging blow, Lefty felt a thrill of successful accomplishment.
A second man swiftly followed the first, but after that there was no time for picking and choosing. With a howl of rage, the crowd rushed forward in a body, bent on getting their hands on their prey and crushing him bodily. Luckily only three men could face Locke at once, and for a brief space he held them back by sheer skill and trained muscles.
With fine precision he wasted not a single effort, but broke through clumsy guarding arms, to land on some vital spot with a jolt which sent his man reeling back against the others, or else crumpled him to the floor.
In about three minutes those in the front rank were seeking to escape the deadly accuracy of his blows by dodging to one side or trying to push back through the crowd. Unfortunately for Locke, those in the rear continued to force their way forward, and thus slowly but inexorably the ring closed in.
Lefty’s arms moved faster and faster. He had long ago ceased to pick and choose—it was impossible. Several times he had leaped back before it occurred to him to wonder what had become of Elgin. That was but a fleeting thought, however. He had never counted on the fellow’s aid, so it was just as well that he was not in the way.