The gendarmes had not seen the robbers. They had seen only Dan Davis and Sam Hickey, who now presented a most disreputable appearance. The boys had lost their caps bearing the name of their ship, their blouses were torn and covered with dirt, while Dan's shirt was ripped in several places where the knives of the desperate men had made great rents in it, his trousers were torn, and his face bruised where he had been struck by one of the robbers. Hickey was in a similar condition.
The gendarmes were chattering loudly, accompanying their words with wild gestures.
Making sure that their prisoners were wholly overpowered, they quickly secured them, one of the number in the meantime having sent in a call for a patrol wagon. Soon the auto wagon came puffing up and backed down to the curb.
Quite a crowd had gathered, attracted to the scene by the uproar.
"What is it?" questioned one after another.
"Apaches!" answered the officer in charge.
A growl of rage ran over the gathering. There is no criminal in Paris so dreaded or so hated as the one who belongs to the so-called "Apaches." These men have but two aims in life—to rob and kill. It is nothing to them who the victim may be, or how innocent. They are infinitely worse than the worst red Indian of the past.
The Apaches are found everywhere in Paris, and woe to the stranger in the gay city who happens to stroll out alone at night, for the Apache will track him to the death if he chances to strike the stranger's trail.
It was this desperate band of criminals to which Dan Davis and Sam Hickey were supposed by the police to belong. On the contrary, the Battleship Boys had met and practically whipped a band of Apaches single handed and without weapons. It was an achievement to be proud of, had they known it, but at that moment neither lad was in a condition to realize anything.
Searching the clothes of their prisoners for weapons, and finding none, the gendarmes picked Dan up by the head and heels, hurling him into the patrol. Next came Hickey. He was thrown in on top of his companion.