The mayor stopped near the pole, where there was a wide blot of blood on the boards of the sidewalk, a trail running off from it marking the way the crippled man had gone.
"They didn't get him!" said the mayor with a curse.
"He's over there," said somebody. The mayor looked and saw Texas waiting with his old whiskered friend for the outcome of the mayor's miscarried plot.
"Arrest that man!" the mayor ordered, giving it as a general command to the public.
"You let that kid alone, Johnnie," said a soft, calm voice behind Texas.
Texas looked to see who had lifted a word for him in that place, where every face expressed either hate of him or fear. It was the lady in the green velvet dress, her little silver trinkets and ornaments white against the rich cloth in the blur that was coming into the passing day. Texas put his hand to his hat in grateful acknowledgment. She smiled as the wind moved the long hair on his temples.
"I saw it all," she said, speaking to the mayor with a cold, commanding directness. "You let that kid alone!"
A sneer jerked the mayor's face, which grew paler at her word. He was a slender man of medium
