"I'm ready," said Foley.
It was arranged that two of the uniformed men were to lead the way out, the big policeman was to come next with Foley, and the two plain clothes men were to be the rearguard.
The big policeman placed an arm round Foley's waist. "I better give youse a lift," he said.
"Oh, I ain't that weak!" returned Foley. "Come on." He started off steadily. Certainly he had regained strength in the last few minutes.
As the six men started a passage opened before them. The little group of roughs who had come to Foley's defense a few minutes before now fell in behind.
Half-way to the door Foley stopped, and addressed the crowd at large:
"Where's Keating?"
"Up by the piano," came the answer.
"Take me to him for a minute, won't youse?" he asked of his guard.
They consulted, then turned back. Again a passage opened and they marched to where Tom sat, very pale, leaning against the piano. The crowd pressed up, eager to get a glimpse of these two enemies, now face to face for the last time.