squarely on the jaw with a force that made even Tom Reade's hardened
knuckles ache.

"Shoot him!" rose a snarl, as others moved toward the boy.

"All right!" assented Tom, his voice ringing cheerily despite his anger.
"Be cowards, as comes natural to you. Yet, if you have the courage of
real men I'll agree to fight my way out of this place, meeting you one
at a time."

"What's that noise up in the street?" suddenly demanded Ashby, in a tone
of sudden fear.

"Run up and find out, if you want to know," proposed Tom, who stood
poised, ready for another assailant to come within reach of his fists.

Stealthily, on tip-toe, the bully who had first engaged Reade in the
street fight, was now trying to get up behind the young engineer. The
bully held the shotgun ready to bring down on the lad's head.

"There's some row up there," continued Ashby. "There, I heard shots!"

"Brave, aren't you?" jeered Tom.

Three or four of the masked cowards started for the steep stairway.

Even the bully with the clubbed shotgun must have been seized with fear;
for, though in position to strike, he quickly lowered the weapon and
listened.