"You go around that way with your fellows, Tom," said d.i.c.k, waving his arm to the left, "and I'll go this way. We'll catch 'em between us and pay 'em back for what they did to Ed and Joe yesterday."

The boys moved off in two different directions. Shirley found herself right behind d.i.c.k and she eyed him curiously. Young though he was, the girl saw that he was strong and powerful. An athlete herself, she could not but admire the easy swing of his shoulders as he trotted on ahead, his calm a.s.surance and the confidence with which he gave his orders.

Shirley decided to stay as close to him as possible.

And now turning another corner, d.i.c.k shouted:

"There they are, fellows! At 'em!"

There was a loud cheer, and from far down the street came its echo, as Tom and his crowd attacked the enemy from the rear.

And now Shirley caught her first view of the enemy.

Halfway down the block, caught between two fires as they were, the enemy, perhaps twenty of them, was preparing to give battle. Shirley could see that they had picked up whatever they could lay hands upon, and were awaiting the attackers to come within range.

Shirley shuddered, but kept close behind d.i.c.k.

"Look out!" cried d.i.c.k, and darted to one side.

Shirley did likewise, and a rock skimmed past her. There was a howl of pain from further back, and Shirley knew that one of the crowd had been hit.

"We'll make 'em pay for that," cried d.i.c.k, and in spite of the fusillade of missiles being hurled at them, he bore down upon the enemy at top speed.

For an instant Shirley hesitated. Here, she thought, might be a chance for her to make her escape. She turned, but as she did so the others surrounded her and she was forced to go on whether or not she wished it.

The two factions came together with great force. They were too closely entwined to permit of the hurling of rocks now. It was hard to distinguish friend from foe.

Shirley found herself in the midst of a struggling, striking ma.s.s.

Wherever she turned she saw nothing but flying fists. One of the enemy struck her a glancing blow on the arm. Shirley became angry.

Stepping quickly forward she struck the boy a resounding smack with her open hand.

d.i.c.k, who happened to be close to her at that moment, noted this with a grin.

"Hit 'em with your fist," he called. "It won't do any good to slap 'em."

But this Shirley could not do. So there she stood while the struggling ma.s.s fought around her. How long the street fight continued, Shirley did not know, but it came to an end suddenly.

From far down the street came the single sharp blast of a whistle.

Immediately the struggling combatants dropped their fists and took to their heels.

"Police," was the cry that went up.

Three minutes later the street was deserted. Both factions had fled, and when the guardians of the law appeared upon the scene there was nothing to give evidence of the struggle that had raged a few moments before.

Shirley had fled with the others, still keeping as close to d.i.c.k as possible. Round corner after corner she followed him, for she was keen enough to know that in this way lay safety, while, should she go her own way, she was likely to fall into the hands of the law; and, in her present attire, she had no desire to do this.

But finally the half a dozen who had fled in the same direction as d.i.c.k and Shirley came to a halt. They stood panting and gasping.

Then one boy suddenly came up to Shirley.

"I told you to fight," he said. "You didn't do it. I watched you. Now I am going to make you fight."

Shirley shrank back.

"Put up your fists," called the boy.

The others gathered round to see the fun.

"He's a coward," they said. "He's afraid to fight. Hit him anyhow."

They surrounded Shirley with angry gestures.

It was at this moment that d.i.c.k interfered.

"Let the kid alone," he said quietly, moving into the midst of the others. "If he doesn't want to fight, he doesn't have to. Maybe he's not the fighting kind. Let him alone."

There was an angry growl from the others.

"I say he has got to fight," said one.

"And I say he hasn't," cried d.i.c.k. "Who is the leader of this crowd, anyhow?"

"We wouldn't have much trouble finding a better one," was the reply.

"Right you are, Ned," said several voices at once.

"Pick on me if you want to," said d.i.c.k, "but let the kid alone."

Shirley shrank close to him, for she knew that in him lay her hope of safety. d.i.c.k put a hand on her shoulder.

"It's all right, kid," he said. "They won't bother you."

"Won't we?" exclaimed one.

He stepped suddenly forward, and before d.i.c.k could prevent him, aimed a blow at Shirley. Unconsciously the girl ducked, and the blow barely grazed her head, carrying away her hat, and worst of all, her boy's wig.

Her long hair came tumbling down.

The boy who had struck at her started back in surprise.

"A girl!" he exclaimed.

Shirley broke into tears.

d.i.c.k had taken in the situation at a glance. He stepped quickly forward and with a single blow of his left fist knocked the boy who had struck Shirley to the ground.

Then the others jumped upon him.

Shirley's tears stopped instantly and she watched the fight in wide-eyed amazement. d.i.c.k, bigger and stronger than the rest, was giving a good account of himself, but it was plain to Shirley that the weight of numbers must tell in the end.