he double quick from the
Town House, and forced his way, at the point of the bayonet, to the
sentinel's side. Once there, the newcomers provoked the throng to yet
greater fury, as they repeated the action of the sentinel, by loading
their muskets deliberately.

There were but few among that gathering who were not carried away by the
excitement of the moment; yet some retained their presence of mind, and
among these last was Henry Knox, who, calling several nearest him to his
assistance, succeeded in gaining Captain Preston's side.

There, seizing the officer's arm, to attract his attention, he cried,
imploringly:

"For God's sake, take your men back, Captain! Your life and theirs
will pay the penalty of an encounter now! The mob are beside
themselves with rage, and this small squad could do nothing against
them, once they were let loose."

The officer shook off his well-meaning adviser as he ordered his men
to stand firm and defend themselves with their bayonets.

How it happened Amos never really understood; it was as if, while he was
yet calm and collected, a sudden flare had come across his eyes, and he
realised nothing more until he was in the foremost of the throng,
pressing eagerly forward toward the red-coated enemy, without regard to
possible danger, as he joined those around him in yelling and hooting.

Men and boys in the rear were firing whatever missiles came to hand,
and friends were struck as often as foes.

Amos heard some one cry, and he thought it was Attucks:

"Let us fall upon the guards! The main guard! The main guard!"

He saw, as if in a dream, the mulatto beat down the musket of a
soldier with a club; he heard those directly behind him cheering
wildly, and he added his voice to theirs.

Somewhere from the rear came the cries:

"Don't be afraid of them!"

"They daren't fire!"

"Kill them! Kill them!"

He half turned his head, believing it was Jim who had raised the last
cry, and just at that instant he saw the mulatto aim a blow at Captain
Preston's head with the club; he understood that it was parried by the
officer's arms, and then noted with satisfaction the fact that as the
weapon descended it knocked a musket from the hands of a soldier.

It was to him more like a dream than a reality when he saw the mulatto
raise the musket quickly, as if to use it upon the officer, and at
that moment some one, Amos never knew who, shouted:

"Why don't you fire? Why don't you fire?"

Ins