That he was up against uncommon men, however, men of extraordinary nerve and reckless daring, appeared in what instantly followed, even under the very muzzle of the detective's revolver.
As quick as a flash, before Nick's threatening command was fairly out of his mouth, the man called Dave made a kick at the detective's uplifted arm, so swift and accurate and forceful that Nick felt the bones of his wrist fairly crack under the blow, and the fingers of his hand gripping the weapon turned numb and tingling as if from an electric shock.
"At him!" snarled the ruffian, even while he kicked. "At him, I say! Quick—the pear!"
It was plain that these men were not doing such desperate work together for the first time. Both fell upon Nick like wolves upon a stricken elk, yet they found the detective waiting for them.
Nick hurled one aside, unable to use his revolver, and grappled with the second, both falling heavily to the pavement.
Then number one was at him again, and got him by the throat, with a grip from which Nick thrice wrenched himself free, at the same time fiercely banging the head of the other upon the stones upon which the terrific combat was being waged.
An oath of vicious rage broke from the latter, and then he fiercely cried again:
"The pear! D—— you, be quick! The pear!—the pear!"
As if in response to this, Nick, who was panting under his violent efforts to overcome both powerful men, suddenly felt something thrust forcibly into his mouth.
Still manfully battling with his opponents, Nick tried to eject the object, opening his jaws wider in the effort.