stant whistles still cried. The place
tingled with nervous life.

Some cried "Whassup?" and some cried "Stanback, cancher!" They stared,
bobbed, inquired, conjectured. The women were voluble. The men spat. A
forest of faces grew up about Simple Simon. A hurricane of hands broke
about his head. The constable took notes and whistled. A humorist
appeared.

"'Ullo, 'ullo, 'ullo! Back water there, some of yer. Stop yer shoving.
Ain't nobody bin asking for me? Stop the fight. I forbid the bangs!"

But he was not popular. They jostled him.

"'Ere," cried some one, "let some one else have a see, Fatty! Other
people wanter have a see, don't they?"

"Stanback--stanback! Why cancher stanback!"

Fatty inquired if Someone wanted a smash over the snitch. Because, if
so....

A woman held that Simple Simon had a rummy hat on. There were pauses,
while the crowd waited and shuffled its feet, as between the acts.

Fatty asked why some one didn't do something. Alwis the way,
though--them police. Stanback--git back on your mat, Toby.

And then ... and then the swelling, clamorous, complaining crowd
swooped in on itself with a sudden undeniable movement. Its centre
flattened, wavered, broke, and the impelling force was brought face to
face with Simple Simon and the constable. It was Flanagan and the boys.

Three pairs of arms collared the constable low. Simple Simon felt a jerk
on his arm that nearly pulled it from its socket, and a crackling like
sandpaper at his ear. "Bolt for it!"

And he would have done so, but at that moment the answering whistles
leaped to a sharper volume, and through the distorting fog came antic
shapes of blue, helmeted. The lights of the Britannia rose up. Panic
smote the crowd, and for a moment there was a fury of feet.

Women screamed. Others cried for help. Some one cried, "Hot stuff,
boys--let 'em 'ave it where it 'urts most!"

Fatty cried: "Git orf my foot! If I find the blank blank blank what trod
on my blank 'and, I'll----!"

"Look out, boys! Truncheons are out!"

They ran, slipped, fell, rolled. A cold voice from a remote window,
remarked, above the din, that whatever he'd done he'd got a rummy hat
on. A young girl was pinioned against the wall by a struggling mass for
whom there was no way. There was in the air an imminence of incident,
acid and barbed. The girl screamed. She implored. Then, with a frantic
movement, her free hand flew to her hat. She withdrew something horrid,
and brough