CHAPTER X.
THE NIGHT IS NOT OVER Tom winced slightly, as the pistol was discharged, for some of the powder burned his face.
Mr.Prenter, who stood beside him, had knocked up the barrel so that the bullet sped over the heads of the crowd.
In a twinkling Tom had hold of the Italian's arm.

He wrenched the pistol away, spraining the Italian's arm.

Instantly Tom "broke" the weapon, dropping the cartridges out into his pocket.

Then he hurled the weapon as far as he could throw it into the shadows of the night.
"You breaka my arm!" snarled the Italian, showing his white teeth.
"Your face is next!" Tom retorted, letting his fist drive.

It caught the Italian on the nose, breaking that member.
"Kill him! Kill Reade!" came the hoarse yell on the night air.
"You'll find it a tough job, men!" Tom called, warningly.