er had passed, and now he was fighting like a clever
pugilist. He warded off the other's powerful blows, and now and then he
slipped beneath a guard, or smashed his way through one, and sent home a
blow of his own.

At the end of three minutes, the thugs were getting much the worst of
it. Gradually they were being fought back toward the nearest driveway.
Back and back they went, but did not turn and run. Sidney Prale sensed
that they were fighting for money, that they were being paid for this
attack, and he realized that, but for the presence of Murk, he would
have had no chance whatever, and probably would be a senseless, bleeding
thing now.

None of them knew that the fight had attracted attention, but it had.
Two women, coming around a curve in the path, had seen it, and had run
back toward the nearest driveway, screeching. Two mounted policemen
hurried toward them, heard the story, and charged down the path.

The two thugs made no effort to escape. They stopped fighting, and Prale
and Murk ceased also, though the latter was eager to continue until a
decision had been rendered. Murk had fought often where there was no
interference and he disliked to be bothered now, but he desisted at
Prale's command.

"Well, what's all this about?" one of the officers demanded. He did not
address any of them particularly. "I was walking along the path, and
these men attacked me," Sidney Prale said. "My valet was a short
distance behind and he came to my assistance. I never saw these fellows
before."

"Nothin' like it!" one of the thugs snarled. "Me and my pal were walkin'
along this path and met these men, and the one with the stick ordered us
out of the way as if we were dogs. When we didn't move quick enough,
they jumped into us."

"That's a lie----" Murk began.

"You can settle this at the station," the officer replied. "All of you
come along with us!"

Prale picked up his hat and stick, took off his torn gloves and threw
them away, and motioned for Murk to walk at his side and to keep quiet.
They went to the driveway and along it, the policemen watching the four
of them closely, the thugs growling to each other and remarking that it
was a fine day when honest workingmen could not stroll in Central Park
without a dude and his valet trying to beat them up.

There was a short wait when the station was reached, and then, at the
lieutenant's command, one of the thugs poured forth his story. He gave
his name and address, a