CHAPTER XXIII
VASSAR’S Committee of Public Safety in the rear room of Schultz’ store grew rapidly into a recruiting stand for volunteers.
Before twelve o’clock the old Armory across the way was packed with hundreds of excited followers eager to fight. A bare hundred of them had permits to carry revolvers. A few had secured sticks of dynamite from builders. A hundred old muskets Vassar’s East Side Guard had used were there—but not a shell.
While they talked and raged in stunned amazement over the situation, a newsboy’s hoarse cry of extra startled the meeting. The morning papers had all gone to press before the blow had been struck.
“Get a paper—quick!” Vassar cried to Brodski, his district leader.
The familiar call of the two newsboys yelling from each side of the street could now be heard. This time their words were clearly heard above the din.
“Wuxtra! Wuxtra!”
“New York City captured!”
“Proclamation of Prince Karl von Waldron!”
“Wuxtra! Wuxtra! Wuxtra!”