“McNish,” persisted Tony in a grave and perfectly courteous tone, “you're a liar. The scabs are in that office.” A roar again swept the crowd.
“Men, listen to me,” pleaded McNish. “A'll tell ye about the scabs. They are in the office yonder. But I have Captain Maitland's word o' honour that they will be shipped out of town by the first train.”
A savage yell answered him.
“McNish, we'll do the shipping,” said Tony, moving still nearer the speaker.
“Officer,” said Maitland sharply to a uniformed policeman standing by his side, “arrest that man!” pointing to Tony.
The policeman drew his baton, took two strides forward, seized Tony by the back of the neck and drew him in. An angry yell went up from the mob. Maitland felt a hand upon his arm. Looking down, he saw to his horror and dismay Annette, her face white and stricken with grief and terror.
“Oh, Jack,” she pleaded, “don't let Tony be arrested. He broke away from us. Let me take him. He will come with me. Oh, let me take him!”
“Rescue! Rescue!” shouted the crowd, rushing the cordon of police lining the street.
“Kill him! Kill the traitor!” yelled Simmons, struggling through and waving unsteadily the revolver in his hand. “Down with that tyrant, Maitland! Kill him!” he shrieked.
He raised his arm, holding his gun with both hands.