"A patchwork of red, white, and blue rags!"
Morrison whirled, crouched on his hands and knees, set his fingers on the edge of the plinth, and slid down the side. He swung for an instant at the end of his arms and dropped the rest of the way to the pavement.
Lanigan had started for the man, but Stewart overtook the commander, seized him by the collar and coattail slack, and tossed him to one side.
"Here's a case at last where I don't need any help or advice from you,
Joe!"
"Punch the face offn him!" adjured Lanigan, even while he was floundering among the legs of the men against whom he had been thrown.
The mayor plunged through the crowd in the direction of the vilifier.
The man did not attempt to escape. "Strike me! Strike me down. I offer myself for my cause to shame these cowards!"
But Morrison did not use his fists, though Lanigan continued to exhort.
"There are altogether too many of you would-be martyrs around this city to-night. I can't accommodate you all!" Stewart made the same tackle he had used in the case of Lanigan and Spanish-walked his captive back toward the porte-cochère.
"I reckon I do need your help, after all, Joe!" confessed Morrison, noting that Lanigan was on his feet again. "Give me your back and a boost!"