He stood up and the men rose to follow him when, suddenly, the boy spoke in a whisper.
“Mother,” said he, “they are going to hang the man,” and he burst into tears.
“Oh, hush, hush,” said the woman, “sure, the men can’t help it.” She dropped quickly on her knees and opened her arms, “Come over to your mother, my darling.”
The boy ran to her.
“They are going to hang him,” he cried in a high, thin voice, and he plucked at her arm violently.
“Now, then, my young boy-o,” said the sergeant, “none of that violence.”
The boy turned suddenly and flew at him with astonishing ferocity. He hurled himself against the sergeant’s legs and bit, and kicked, and struck at him. So furiously sudden was his attack that the man went staggering back against the wall, then he plucked at the boy and whirled him across the room. In an instant the two dogs leaped at him snarling with rage—one of these he kicked into a corner, from which it rebounded again bristling and red-eyed; the other dog was caught by the woman, and after a few frantic seconds she gripped the first dog also. To a horrible chorus of howls and snapping teeth the men hustled outside and slammed the door.
“Shawn,” the sergeant bawled, “have you got a good grip of that man?”
“I have so,” said Shawn.
“If he gets away I’ll kick the belly out of you; mind that now! Come along with you and no more of your slouching.”