But the red-faced man, crazed by drink, had bowled over the policeman and had fallen on top of him.

The victor had begun to beat the police officer when the sight of a rapidly-growing crowd angered the fellow.
Leaping up, the red-faced one had glared about him, wondering whom next to attack, while the officer lay on his back, more than half-dazed.
Making up his mind to catch and thrash some one, the red-faced man came along, shouting savagely.

It was just at this moment that Dick Prescott and Greg Holmes, sprinting fast, came out through the gateway.
"Look out, boys! He'll kill you!" shouted one well-meaning citizen in the background.
"Will he ?" grunted Dick grimly.

"Greg, I'll tackle the fellow---you be ready to fall on him.

Head down, now---charge!" As though they had darted around the right end of the football battle line, and had sighted the enemy's goal line, Prescott and Holmes charged straight for the infuriated fellow.
"Get outer my way!" roared red-face, turning slightly and running furiously at them.
Dick's head was down, but that did not prevent his seeing through his long hair.
"Get out of my way, you kid!" gasped the big fellow, halting in his amazement as he saw this youngster coming straight at him.
Greg was off the sidewalk, running a few feet out from the gutter But Dick sailed straight in.