"See here, what do you mean by striking my mother?" he cried out, boldly. "Do you want to get yourself locked up?"
Instead of replying to this speech, Ralph backed toward the rear of the clothing establishment. He had no desire to enter into a fight on the premises. Now he had his clothing, he wished to get out as quickly as possible.
"Sthop! sthop!" screamed the old Jew. "Vere vos you going?"
Still Ralph returned no reply. The way to the front was blocked. But a rear door, leading to a small yard, was open, and toward this he ran.
"He's goin' out of der pack!" cried the woman. "Sthop him, Isaac!"
"Run, Samuel!" shrieked Isaac, and the son darted forward, but too late to stop Ralph in making his exit.
Ralph found the yard both small and exceedingly dirty. Beyond was another yard, and, looking over the fence, the boy saw an open hallway leading to a street.
Without hesitation, for Samuel was close at his heels, Ralph vaulted over the fence. Before the young Jew could follow, he was inside of the hallway. A minute later he was in the next street, and running through the crowd toward the end of the block. He did not cease his rapid pace until the neighborhood was left a good distance behind.
"Well, that's the most trying experience I've had yet," he murmured to himself, as he at last dropped into a slow walk to catch his breath. "Those people are not thieves, but they are next door to it."
Ralph was so disgusted with the Bowery—which, in reality, has many nice places of business in it—that he left the street at the next corner.