The sight seemed to give Nick the strength of a dozen men.
He threw men right and left, until he reached the place where the man stood, the smoking revolver in his hand.
Nick grabbed him by the throat.
The man grew black in the face, and vainly gasped for breath.
Seeing that two other men were coming to the rescue of the man that he held, Nick raised him clear of the ground and hurled him at the oncoming men.
The men dodged, and the fellow struck, headfirst, against a pile of stones that lay on the side of the street.
His skull was fractured.
This served to awe the crowd, but only for a moment. They returned to the attack with greater fierceness than before.
It seemed as if all the officers and Nick would be ground to death under the heels of the maddened throng.
“Heavens! Cannot something be done to stop this hellish work?” cried Nick.