The last cry he repeated at every step. The crowd pressed to either side, and the five men shouldered slowly toward the vortex of the whirlpool. At length they gained this fiercely swaying tangle of men.
"If youse kill that man, we'll arrest every one o' youse for murder!" boomed the voice of the big policeman.
The vortex became suddenly less violent. The five officers pulled man after man back, and reached Foley's body. He was lying on his side, almost against the wall, eyes closed, mouth slightly gaping. He did not move.
"Too late!" said the big policeman. "He's dead!"
His words ran back through the crowd which had so lusted for this very event. Stillness fell upon it.
The big policeman stooped and gently turned the long figure over and placed his hand above the heart. The inner circle of the crowd looked on, waiting. After a moment the policeman's head nodded.
"Beatin'?" asked one of the plain clothes men.
"Yes. But mighty weak."
"I'll be all right in a minute," said a faint voice.
The big policeman started and glanced at Foley's face. The eyes were open, and looking at him.