Brave Tom Or The Battle That Won Part 13

Tom did not intend to shoot unless they advanced upon him; but, not being accustomed to the weapon, he was unaware that a very slight pressure was enough to discharge it. Unconsciously he exerted that slight pressure, and, while the miscreants were glaring in the door, the pistol was fired.

What was more, the bullet struck one of the Italians, who, with a howl of pain, wheeled about and hurried down-stairs, followed by his terror-stricken companion.

Tom was half-frightened out of his wits, and made up his mind that the best thing he could do was to get out of the place without any further delay.

The only way to escape was to go down the stairs, the same as his a.s.sailants had done.

It was not a pleasant duty; but, remembering what the Irishman had told him, and filled with an uncontrollable aversion against staying any longer, he hurried out, pausing only long enough to catch up his small bundle of clothing.

In the smoky, hot room down-stairs, the scene was nearly the same as when he left it a couple of hours before to go to bed. The two Italians were invisible, and the little affray up-stairs seemed to have attracted no attention at all. The bartender was too much occupied to notice the lad, who made his way outside into the clear, frosty air, where he inhaled a few deep draughts to give him new life and courage.

He knew not which way to turn, but he was confident he could find some safe lodging-place without going far, and he moved along the street, where there were plenty of pedestrians abroad, even though the hour was so late.

He was quite near the river, and determined not to be caught in such a trap again. He walked slowly, scrutinizing as well as he could the exterior of each building in sight, where the wayfarer and traveler was invited to step within and secure food and lodging.

In this manner he pa.s.sed several houses, and was on the point of turning into one which seemed to have an inviting look, when his attention was arrested by a lad who was running toward him from the rear.

He was panting and laboring along as though about exhausted.

As he reached the wondering Tom, who stopped and turned aside to let him pa.s.s, the stranger paused and said,--

"Say, sonny, just hold that watch, will you, till I come back?"

And before the boy fairly understood the question, the other shoved a gold watch and chain into his hands, then darted into an alleyway and disappeared.

He had scarcely done so when two swift footed policemen came dashing along, as if in pursuit.

"Here he is!" exclaimed one, catching hold of Tom's arm, and dealing him a stunning blow on the head with his locust.

"That's the little imp," added the other, the two guardians of the law pouncing upon the lad as if he were a Hercules, who meant to turn upon and rend them.

"I haven't done anything," remonstrated Tom, feeling that some fearful mistake had been made.

"Shut up, you little thief!" yelled the policeman, whacking him on the head again with his club. "Ah, here is the watch on him! We've been looking for you, my boy, for a month, and we've got you at last."

Chapter XI.

When Tom Gordon comprehended that the two policemen had arrested him on the charge of stealing a gold watch, he understood the trick played upon him by the lad who had handed him the timepiece and then, darted into the alley.

Instead of throwing the property away, as a thief generally does under such circ.u.mstances, the young scamp preferred to get a stranger into difficulty.

"I didn't take the watch; that boy handed it"--

"Shet up!" broke in the burly officer.

"But let me finish what I want"--

"Shet up! Heavens and earth! have I got to kill you before you stop that clack of yours?"

The lad saw that the only way to save his crown was to keep quiet, and he did so, trusting that in some way or other the truth would become known, the guilty punished, and the innocent allowed to go free.

One policeman grasped his right and the other his left arm, and they held on like grim death as they marched off toward the station-house.

Turning the next corner, they entered a still lower part of the city, where the darkest crimes of humanity are perpetrated.

Within ten feet of where Tom was walking, he saw under the gas-lamp a poor wretch on the pavement, with two others pounding him.

"Murder! murder!" groaned the victim, with fast-failing strength, vainly struggling to free himself from his a.s.sa.s.sins.

Tom paused, expecting the policemen, or at least one of them, would rush in and save the man.

On the contrary, they strode along as if they were unconscious of the crime going on right before their eyes.

"They'll kill him," said the horrified boy, "why don't you stop"--

"Shet up!" and down came the club again.

Just then the second policeman added in a severe tone,--

"Young man, we know you; we understand the trick you are trying to play on us; you want us to let go of you and rush in there, and then you'll skip; we're too old birds to be caught with such chaff; we are convinced that a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, and so, understand, sir, we'll hold on to you!"

But at this juncture, fortunately for the under man, a champion appeared in the person of an Irishman, who with one blow knocked the largest of the a.s.sailants so violently backward that he turned a complete reverse somersault, and then lay still several minutes to try and understand things.

The other a.s.sailant was using his boot-heel on the prostrate man at that moment, when the Hibernian gave him a couple of blows in lightning-like succession. They landed upon the face of the coward with a sensation about the same as if a well-shod mule had planted his two hind feet there.

He, too, collapsed on the instant, and for a considerable time lost all interest in worldly affairs.

It is hard work to kill a drunken man; and, despite the terrible beating the victim had suffered, he was scarcely relieved of his foes when he staggered to his feet.

"I'm obleeged to ye, young man, for a.s.sisting me, as ye did"--

"Dry up!" broke in the impatient Hibernian.

"Talk of being obleeged to me, 'cause I interfared. What did ye let them git ye down fur? That's what I want to know. Git out wid yees!"

And the disgusted champion turned the other fellow about and expressed his opinion of him by delivering a kick, which landed him several feet away.

"That was kind in yees," said the recipient, looking back with the droll humor of the Irish people. "They did their hammering in front, while I resave yees in the rear, and I fale as though they was about equal."

"What's this? what's this?" demanded one of the policemen in a brisk, business-like tone, swinging his locust, and looking sharply about him, as if in quest of some desperado upon whom to vent his wrath.

"It looks as if there was some trouble here."