"Wipe off the boo-hoo, Lizzie, and come along," ordered the fellow who held the girl's wrist. "No use of making a fuss. You're headed for the waltz with me."
"Shame!" some one in the crowd had courage enough to utter again, as Bill, still holding the girl's wrist, started to force her along the sidewalk.
"What do you more decent people expect to do by just talking?" Corporal Hal Overton demanded angrily.
"Hullo, brass-button boy!" called Bill cheerily, turning and leering at the youthful-looking corporal. "When did you blow out of the sewer?"
"Let Go That Young Lady's Wrist."
"If that young lady wishes to go home, let her do so," ordered Hal sternly.
"So?" queried Bill mockingly. "But maybe that won't suit me."