"Quit it and come with us," said one of the policemen. "We're going to put a stop to this street fighting. A night in the lock-up will take some of the spunk out of you fellows. Come on," and each grabbed an arm of Armstrong and Turner while the roughs who had started the trouble, with terrified looks, turned, dashed through the crowd, and made their escape.
"They snatched my cap," said the Codfish.
"So you were in it, too? You better come along with your friends," said one of the officers, reaching for Gleason's arm.
"Why don't you take the roughs that started the muss?" remonstrated Frank.
"No lip, young fellow," said the officer, scowling and shaking his club. Both policemen started forward, pushing their captors ahead of them, but the crowd blocked the way and began to hoot and yell. It looked like serious trouble for a minute when, shouldering through the crowd, came a giant of a man wearing the uniform of the University police.
"What's the matter, boys?" he said in a soft tone.
"These young fellows were fighting and we're going to jug them for a while."
"No, I wouldn't do that, now," urged the soft voice. "Maybe they had a reason. Let me take charge of them. They're good boys."
"They were defending themselves," said a man who stepped forward from the ring of spectators. "I saw the muss and these boys are not to blame." Turner recognized in the speaker the man who had asked him to report at the Field the next week, and his heart sank. It was a bad way to start his Yale career, he thought.
"Let me take them in charge," urged the University officer, and reluctantly the City policemen released their holds on the offenders.