"That's the rooster who said we drank whiskey and didn't work. He's the fellow who would rob a poor man of his liberty," came a voice in the crowd.
"Knock his block off!"
"Break his back!"
"Let me at him," and a score of other friendly offers came from the drunken crowd.
Jack stood steadily looking at the ruffians, his blue eyes growing black with excitement and his hands clenched tightly in the pockets of his reefer.
"Slowly, men, slowly," said he. "If you want me, you may have me. There are ladies in the carriage; let them go on; I'll stay with you as long as you like. You are brave men, and you have no quarrel with ladies."
"Ladies, eh!" said the Hun, "ladies! I never saw anything but women. Let's have a look at them, boys."
This speech was drunkenly approved, and the men pressed forward. Jack stood firm, his face was white, but his eyes flamed.
"Stand off! There are good men who will die for those ladies, and it will go hard but bad men shall die first."
The Hun disregarded the warning.