At last one of the toughs received a blow which, apparently, forced him inside the alcove, then the whole crowd rushed in, swarming over Alex and Case like the wharf rats they were. The boys drew their revolvers, but did not fire. Instead they sprang to the top of the table and used the handles of their weapons to good purpose.
In the meantime the proprietor was running back and forth from the alcove to the door and from the door to the alcove, urging the boys to act “like little gentlemen,” and at the same time shouting for the police. But no officers made their appearance.
The weight of humanity on the table upon which the boys were standing now brought it down with a crash to the floor. The situation was becoming serious, and the boys were preparing to use their guns when an unexpected event occurred.
The night being warm, the street door was wide open, but a little crowd had gathered about it. Disturbances were frequent in that place, however, and none of the onlookers seemed inclined to interfere.
As they stood looking, a heavy body catapulted against their shoulders, and the next moment the heavy body of a white bulldog leaped over their heads into the room.
The toughs in the alcove, who had just settled down to a steady pommeling of the boys with their bare fists, turned for an instant as sharp claws clattered over the floor, and some of them stepped aside. Then Captain Joe leaped atop of the struggling mass and began a vigorous exercise of his very capable teeth.
In a second the whole place was in confusion. Patrons rushed out from other rooms, the proprietor appeared from behind the desk bearing a revolver. There was an inrush from the street, and then two pistol shots sounded. As the acrid smell of powder smoke seeped into the air, there was a rattle of glass and the two ceiling lights were extinguished.
Save for the uncertain light from incandescents in the other alcoves, the place was now in darkness, except for the illumination which came in from the street.
Cries, shouts and epithets of the vilest character rang through the place. Long before the light of the gas jets could be turned on, the boys and the dog were out on the pavement, making good progress toward a policeman in uniform, who appeared under an arc light not far away. The officer held up his heavy night stick as the boys approached him.
The sound of running feet came out and in a moment the officer and the two boys were surrounded by the wharf rats who had been in the restaurant. The officer promptly drew a revolver.