CHAPTER XVII.
AT MONTE MURPHY’S.
A crowd gathered around the “fence,” one member of which—a laborer returning from work—had a crowbar.
Burt seized the iron bar.
“Burt,” said Cook, “don’t do anything rash, I beg of you!”
Burt looked at the fellow in surprise.
“What do you care whether I get shot?” he asked.
“I do care; and I am sure that fellow means to shoot.”
Two policemen came running up, and, at sight of them, the strange young man withdrew from the window.
Burt explained to the police who he was, and stated it was necessary he should gain entrance to the “fence.” The officers beat a lively tattoo on the door with their clubs. The young man then condescended to open it.
Burt stepped inside, followed by Cook.