"That's the stuff! Give him some more of that!"
The German took a few steps forward facing Herb, the crowd giving way. The man's arm was raised.
"Vat you got to say aboudt it, heh? I say chust vat I bleese. Who vas you? Purdy soon I ketch you py der neck und twist id like a chicken gets der axe, heh?"
"You really couldn't mean to be so unkind, could you? Now, honest." Herb was sarcastic. "Now, I'll tell you what we'll do to fix you. You come along down town and we'll just turn you over to the cops. They'll want to investigate you. How about it, fellows? Hadn't we better take him right now?"
One senior, scenting trouble, began to edge away, but the others responded by general acclamation. It might mean a serious scrimmage, but they were ready for it; all that had been needed to call them into action was a leader.
But the big German proved to be the actual aggressor. Permitting his anger to get the better of his judgment and quicker on his feet than his girth would indicate, he made a rush straight at Herbert. No doubt he meant to end matters by a sudden defeat of the leader and thus intimidate the others. But like many German plans this one did not fully work out.
Herb merely side-stepped. As a most promising pupil he had long received special training in boxing from the capable athletic instructor. He was instantly out of the man's reach as the big arms and fat hands reached to seize him; he was just a mite too far away also when the ponderous fist, swung round in the air, aimed at his head. But the German was not out of Roy's reach.
The foreigner's artillery may have been heavier, but that of the American youth was handier and reached farther. The man's blow, that surely would have done damage had it landed, by its momentum had carried him half off his feet when Herb just stepped forward, shot out his arm and stepped back again.
The German got it precisely in the right place on the jaw and he collapsed like a clothes-horse with the props knocked from under it.