ing to the little platform of the alley door of a building fronting on the street.
"No show making a break," he continued in rapid tones. "Look at the cowards!"
At the call of their new leader, the crowd to its last member whipped out their weapons. They were made of some hard substance like lead, and incased in leather. They were attached to the wrist by a long loop, which enabled their possessors to strike a person at long range, the object of the attack having no chance to resist or defend himself.
"Grab the railing," ordered Clark, whom Ralph was beginning to recognize as a quick-witted fellow in an emegency. "Now then, keep side by side—any tactics to hold them at bay or drive them off."
The two friends had secured quite a tactical position, and they proceeded to make the most of it. The mob with angry yells made for them direct. They jostled one another in their eager malice to strike a blow. They crowded close to the steps, and their ugly weapons shot out from all directions.
One of the weapons landed on Ralph's hand grasping the iron railing, and quite numbed and almost crippled it. A fellow used his weapon as a missile, on purpose or by mistake. At all events,
