So engrossed was Joe in watching his chum that he forgot to watch for anything else, and he was not conscious of the presence of a man who had come out of the warehouse a moment before and who now stood gazing in stupefied silence at the sight that met his eyes.
His period of inaction, however, did not last long. With a startled shout he sprang into action and dashed back into the building, calling at the top of his lungs.
Jim was still less than half way down, and Joe gazed desperately about in the hope of assistance.
There was none in sight. Jim had heard the man’s shout, and, knowing that his actions were discovered, slid down the rope at increased speed. But he was still thirty or forty feet from the sidewalk when the man who had raised the alarm dashed out, followed by three others. They made furiously for Joe, and he let go the rope and rushed to meet them. He knew that he would have to beat them off until Jim could join him.
The fellows did not recognize Joe, and they were chiefly concerned lest Jim should escape them. They tried to get at the rope, but Joe would not have it so. Hot rage boiled up in him at the thought of the unprovoked attacks on him and his friend. He saw red, and the four ruffians were staggered by the force and fury of his onslaught. They gave back momentarily, then returned to the attack.
One of them had a club in his hand. He edged behind Joe, waiting for a chance to use it. The weapon was poised in readiness for a blow when its owner was sent sprawling to the ground. Jim stood at his friend’s side.
He also had the memory of recent wrongs and insults to avenge, and together the two friends charged into their assailants, striking right and left and feeling a fierce joy as their flailing fists smashed and battered at their shrinking opponents.
But reënforcements were at hand for the ball players’ opponents. With a yell, three more fellows dashed out of the warehouse and charged into the fray.
“Time for a getaway, Jim,” panted Joe, realizing that these odds were too great. As he spoke, he saw the club that one of the ruffians had dropped lying on the sidewalk. Like a flash he picked it up and laid about him like a madman. As his weapon landed with terrific force, the scoundrels momentarily gave ground.
“Come on, Jim!” shouted Joe, and the two friends charged through the ring of assailants like a couple of maddened bulls.