men from the wharves turned and ran from the scene of their defeat. With a roar of its motor the taxi started after them. Speedy saw it stop with a jerk near Callahan. The door opened and Puggy jumped in. Then the cab leaped out again and careened madly down De Lacey Street. Carter and his lieutenant were fleeing the scene.
When three other policemen came running to join Burke, the fight was over. The attacking army had vanished, except for five or six of its members too badly wounded to rise from the street and follow. These were brought to their feet none too gently by the cops and taken into custody. Speedy's followers had no serious casualties, he quickly determined as he jumped down off his lofty perch on the car top and hastily inspected them as they stood in a victorious circle around the car. Several were nursing black eyes and other bruises. Barnett, the butcher, had his clothes nearly torn off him. Le Duc's face was bleeding from gashes made by brass knuckles, but the cuts were superficial. All were sweaty and grimy, but cheerful and quite proud of themselves.
Speedy shook hands with them enthusiastically and thanked them. No trouble at all; a pleasure rather, they informed him, and offered to fight again tomorrow if necessary.
"I don't believe they'll be back," Speedy declared. "They're not through yet, though. They'll think up something new."
Then he was taken in tow by Johnny Burke, who demanded an account of the brawl, its causes, progress and results, so that he could enter them in his
