THE RIOT 255 
blow that was aimed at the stricken man, and 
with a back-handed cut laid the striker low. 
« All right, Jack; keep down till the stars are 
gone.” He stood with one sturdy leg on each 
side of Jack’s body and his big club made a 
charmed circle about him. It was not more 
than twenty seconds before the wheels were out 
of Jack’s head and he was on his feet again, 
though not quite steady. 
Jack’s fall had given courage to the gang, and 
they made a furious attack upon Jarvis, who was 
now alone and not a little impeded by the friend 
at his feet. As Jack struggled to his legs, a furi- 
ous blow directed at him was parried by Jarvis’s 
left arm,—his right being busy guarding his 
own head. The blow was a fearful one; it 
broke the small bone in the forearm, beat down 
the guard, and came with terrible force upon 
poor Jack’s left shoulder, disabling it for a 
minute. At the same time Jarvis received a 
nasty blow across the face from an unexpected 
quarter. He was staggered by it, but he did not 
fall. Jack’s right arm was good and very angry ; 
a savage jab with his club into the face of the 
man who had struck Jarvis laid him low, and 
Jack grinned with satisfaction. 
Things were going hard with the young men. 
They had, indeed, disqualified nine of the enemy ; 
but there were still eight or ten more, and through 
hard work and harder knocks they had lost 
more than half their own fighting strength. At 
