“You go on down, my lad,” whispered Ike in a low deep voice. “Go on, now.”
“But are you coming?” I whispered back.
“You may depend on that,” he said, as if to himself, “if they’ll let me. Go on.”
I moved towards the open door, when one of the men made a dash to stop me; but Ike threw put one leg, and he fell sprawling. At the same moment my enemy made a rush at Ike, who stepped back, and then I saw his great fist fly out straight. There was a dull, heavy sound, and the big ruffian stopped short, reeled, and then dropped down upon his hands and knees.
“Quick, boy, quick! You go first,” whispered Ike, as I stopped as if paralysed; “I’ll foller.”
His words roused me, and I ran out of the room.