“Some street row,” thought Nick.
All was still on the second floor when Nick reached the head of the stairs, and in a moment he was in the street. About the first person he saw there was Patsy. There was an excited crowd in front of the store, and policemen were guarding the door.
“What is it?” asked Nick.
“They did up my sailor,” was the reply. “Where is your man?”
“Dead,” was the reply. “And yours?”
“Gone to the hospital with a smash on the head that would have killed an ox,” was the reply. “I don’t think he’ll ever get over it.”
“How did it happen?” asked Nick.
“Well, we got tired of waiting for you, and came and stood in front of the shop, here. Presently a tough mug of a fellow came out and looked us over. Then he went back and whispered with the clerk, and a gray-haired man was called into the conversation. We could see them through the window, and noted that they were all very much excited.”
Nick began to understand.