To the speaker's side another ranged, eying Alan with a formidable scowl. An elbow planted heavily in the pit of the stomach of one disposed of him for the time being. A blow from the shoulder sent the other reeling to the gutter. And Alan was in the tenement's lowermost hall. Sounds of scuffling feet were audible on the first landing. Alan addressed himself impetuously to the staircase, gaining its top in half a dozen leaps, and only in time to see a door slammed at the forward end of the hall and hear a key turned in its lock.
A cluster of men blocked his way. He threw himself headlong into their midst, and gained the closed door before they sought to stay him.
He shook the knob and shouted: "Rose! Rose!"
Her cry came back to him, a muffled scream: "Alan! Help! Help!"
Backing away with a mad idea of throwing himself bodily against the door and breaking it down, he was suddenly confronted by a hideously menacing face.
Without the hesitation of a heart-beat Alan swung heavily for the thug's jaw. The blow went solidly home. The man fell like a poled ox.
Pendemonium ensued. Rallying to their comrade, the ruffians attacked Alan with one mind and one intent. Simultaneously the lamp on the wall was struck from its bracket and crashed to the floor,
