Near the outskirts of the thrown was a big burly individual, who had been roaring in a furious voice, “For shame! Go on!” and waving his fists in the air.
“I don't know,” said Everley. “I never saw him before.”
“An outrage!” yelled the man. “Kill the police! Smash them! Drive them away!”
And Everley caught the boy's arm, crying excitedly, “He's been sent here, I'll wager! They want to provoke trouble!”
And even as he spoke, the two saw the man stoop, and pick up a brick-bat, and fling it into the center of the crowd, where the police were massing.
“Arrest that man!” shouted Everley indignantly, and leaped forward and plunged through the throng to reach him.
There was a roar from the crowd, and Samuel saw that several men had grappled with the bully; he saw, also, that the police in the center of the throng had drawn their clubs, and were beginning to strike at the people. A burly sergeant was commanding them, and forcing back the crowd by jabbing men in the stomachs.
Meantime the next speaker, a woman, had mounted upon a box, and was crying in a shrill voice: “We are Socialists! We are the only political party which dares to speak for the working class of Lockmanville! We protest against this outrage! We demand free speech! There has been bribery in our city council!”
Then suddenly the boy heard a disturbance behind him, and turned, just in the nick of time. A fellow had thrust his way through the crowd toward him, a rowdy with a brutal, half-drunken face. And Samuel saw him raise his hand, with some dark object in it, and aim a smashing blow at his head.
The boy ducked and raised his arm. He felt a sharp, agonizing pain, and his arm dropped helpless at his side. Something struck him across the forehead, cutting a gash, out of which hot blood spurted, blinding him. He heard Beggs, who was beside him, give a shout—“Down!” And realizing that his life was aimed at, he dropped like a flash, and put his head under him, covering it with one arm as well as he could.