Speedy, more wary now, stood back from them as far as he could and cracked skulls from a distance, though just as effectively.
From his eminence he had a chance to view the battle as a panorama and hurl down commands.
"Around the other side of the car, Barnett!" he shouted. "Four or five of you go with him. Quick!" he yelled, as he saw Schultz and his contingent about to be overwhelmed by greater numbers.
"Grab that blackjack, George!" he motioned to young George Feeley, frantically indicating a wicked little black weapon that had fallen from the hands of a vanquished Callahanite.
And now the De Lacey Street stalwarts were slowly but surely gaining the upper hand. The roughnecks had all been driven from the car. A space ten or more feet in diameter had been cleared between the car and the backs of Speedy's men, who were doggedly driving the invaders back and back.
A taxicab was parked at the curb down the street a half block from the fracas. The curtains were drawn. Speedy could not see the occupant, but he guessed that it was Steven Carter. In the next minute he was sure of it.
For Johnny Burke, the De Lacey Street cop, strangely absent from the scene all during the fight so far, came running up blowing his police whistle lustily. The curtain of the taxi was snapped up about halfway. An arm came out of it and waved in half circles for several seconds. Puggy Callahan started shouting commands and waving his hand also. And as suddenly as they had appeared, the
