t the bridle, and another man seized the rider
by the leg. He struck out sharply, and the line of police moved forward.

"Stand up to 'em, boys," cried Big Todd, and he aimed a blow with his
stick at his antagonist.

The young men round Kilshaw looked at one another and began to press
forward. They wanted to join in.

A voice from behind them cried out warningly,

"None of that, gentlemen! You must leave it to us," and at the same
instant the first rank seemed to leave them. The order to advance had
been given, and the _melee_ had begun. The rear rank advancing covered
the members of the Club from attack.

"We seem to be spectators," observed Captain Heseltine, in a
disappointed tone. He had earnestly hoped that some one would assault
him.

Just ahead the fight was hot round Big Todd. The police were determined
to arrest him, and had closed round where he stood. The big man was
fighting like a lion, and some half-dozen were trying to protect him. On
either side of this group the line of police passed on, driving the
crowd before them. Their horses were trotting now, and the people ran
before them or dodged into side streets and escaped. Big Todd and his
little band were sore pressed. Todd was bleeding from the head and his
right hand was numbed from a blow. He was down once, but up again in a
second. As he rose, he caught sight of Kilshaw's scornful smile, and,
swearing savagely, with a sudden rush he burst the ring round him and
made for the arch-enemy. Kilshaw raised his arm to shield himself,
Captain Heseltine stepped forward and deftly put out his foot. Big Todd,
tripped in the manner of the old football, fell heavily to the ground,
striking his bullet poll on the hard road.

Hector was slain. The Trojans scoured over the plain. Victoria Street
was cleared, and Big Todd was borne on a stretcher to the police-station
hard by.

"That fellow would have caught me a crack but for you, Heseltine," said
Mr. Kilshaw.

A police-superintendent rode up.

"If you'd go home, gentlemen," he said, "our work would be easier. The
trouble's not all over yet, I'm afraid. I'll send some of my men with
you, Mr. Kilshaw, if you please, sir."

Kilshaw made a wry face.

"I wish I had my men," he said. "The Mounted Volunteers would teach
these fellows a lesson."

"Well, we may see that before we're many days older, sir," answered the
officer. "Mr. Medland'll be here to-morrow, and heaven knows what
they'll be up to then."