He went down under the rush.

Hippy saw them grab the fellow and hurl him into the middle of the street.

The Indian was on his feet in an instant, and, from the light shed through the windows along the street, Hippy saw a knife flash in the Indian's hand, saw the red man's arm shoot out, and a man fall, uttering a howl.
The jacks hesitated briefly, then uttering angry yells they hurled themselves upon the Indian, bore him to the ground, and began to kick at him with their heavy boots.
Tom turned his pony and rode into the crowd at a gallop.

Three lumberjacks went down under his charge.
"The cowards!" raged Hippy, also charging into the group and completing what his companion had begun.
"Run, you poor fish!" he yelled at the Indian, who had got to his feet and stood dazedly gazing at his rescuers.

"Run!" The Indian, suddenly recovering himself, darted between two buildings and disappeared.
"Good work!" chuckled Hippy, galloping up the street with Tom to join the girls, who were waiting for them.
"Oh, that was splendid!" cried Anne Nesbit as Tom and Hippy rejoined the party of Overland girls.
"It won't be splendid unless we step lively," answered Tom.
"Keep going, girls, keep going," urged Hippy.
"I hate to run away, but being a peace-loving person I run away whenever a fight is suggested to me." "We know it," observed Emma.
"Thanks! Which way do we go ?" questioned Hippy.
"Straight ahead and take the first right-hand turn about a mile from the village to reach Joe Shafto's place, the storekeeper told me," Grace informed them.
The party galloped on until they reached the turn indicated by Grace where they halted and consulted, deciding that the road to the right was the one they should take.