In less time than it takes to tell it, five
terrified hoodlums were "streaking it" in as many directions, their
chins high with a mighty resolve, their legs working like pinwheels,
their eyes popping and their mouths spread in speechless endeavor.
Five seconds later you couldn't have found one of them with a
telescope.
The hunchback had leaped forward and was clasping a leg of the tall,
angry rescuer, whining petulantly: "Why didn't you come sooner, Dick!
You never look out for me. One of them struck me. See!"
"Struck you, did he? I'd--I'd have killed him if I'd knowed that,
Ernie. But, say, who's your friend? Looked as if he was doing business
all right when I came up. Hello! They got to you, did they? Bleeding
like a pig, you are. Say, young feller, never--_never_ put your nose
where it can be hit. I hates the sight of blood, and always did."
David was wiping the blood from his cheek. The tall young man came
over and inspected the break in the cuticle.
"Just peeled it off a little," he announced. "No harm done. Oh, I say,
you're the new clown, ain't you? I saw you last night. Put it there,
kid.
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