Dick uttered a slight groan, stumbled and fell almost at Shirley’s feet.
The girl uttered a cry of horror. The other boys, startled for the moment at the outcome, hung back, then advanced toward their fallen leader. Believing that they were about to do him further harm, Shirley took the responsibility upon herself.
Her nervousness, fright and indecision left her instantly. She reached quickly in her coat pocket and whipped forth her little revolver, which she aimed at the crowd of young ruffians with steady hand.
“Stand back!” she cried.
The ruffians hesitated.
“Look here,” began one, advancing a step.
“Take my advice and stay where you are,” said Shirley quietly. “I don’t want to hurt you, but if any one of you come a single step nearer I’ll shoot.”
The crowd drew back, and stood silently watching her.
Laying the revolver upon the sidewalk close beside her, Shirley raised Dick’s head to her knee. Then she sought to stop the flow of blood from the wound with her handkerchief.
Dick stirred slightly, and a faint breath shivered through his lips.