In vain Billy Darnley tried to clear himself of the other lads. He struck one boy down, but the others pounced upon him front and rear, and soon had him again on his back. It looked like a football scrimmage, but the ball in this case seemed to be the bully's head. For ten minutes the tussle went on, and when at last the cry of "Cop! cop! run for it!" arose, Darnley found himself with his nose bleeding, two teeth loose, and his left eye all but closed. Moreover, his coat was torn to shreds.
"What is the meaning of this?" demanded the policeman.
"They all piled on top of me!" whined Darnley, looking the picture of misery.
"He's a thief!" exclaimed one of the other boys, but from a safe distance. "He stole something from three of the boys, he did. He didn't git nuthin' but what was comin' to him, officer."
"That's right; he ought to be locked up," put in another boy, also from a safe distance.
"Begone with you!" said the policeman sternly, and gave Darnley a shove. "If I see any more fighting I'll run you all in," and he walked away, twirling his club as he did so.
"Oh, me eye!" groaned Darnley, and limped away, a sadder if not a wiser youth. It was many a day before he dared to show himself in Newspaper Row again.
"Well, I got back three dollars and ten cents," remarked Nelson, as he and Paul walked up Frankfort Street, "so I won't need your loan. But, just the same, I am much obliged." And he passed over the money.
"I wish you had gotten it all, Nelson," said Paul earnestly. "Oh, but didn't they just pitch into Billy! And it served him right, too."
"Yes, I showed him up in his true colors," returned our hero.