ously. There was an immediate scuffle, during which Gwynne basely
drew Isabel's arm through his and pressed forward into the thick of the
crowd.

"We have had enough of them, and no doubt they have had of us," he said,
comfortably. "Now we will enjoy ourselves."

"Well, if they blacken my face don't notice them. One would think Lyster
would know how to play the game by this time."

"He is always ready to fight after the fifth glass of champagne. I have
had lively experiences with him."

Conversation was impossible in the din. Isabel's face was smudged more
than once, but no other liberty was attempted. Gwynne also looked like a
chimney-sweep, and was addressed as "darling" several times, but the
crowd was inoffensive until a chain-gang of hoodlums dashed irresistibly
through it, pushing many off the sidewalk, and rousing a lurid
accompaniment. One man, solid and stolid, stood his ground on the edge
of the chain and administered a hearty kick upon each ankle as it
passed. There were angry howls in response, but none could retaliate
without breaking the chain, nor indeed could they control its momentum.

"That is one of those things one would like to have thought of one's
self," said Gwynne, admiringly, rubbing his ribs, for he had hastily
swung Isabel outward, and received much of the impact. "We might as
well get out of this."

They slowly made their way into one of the cross streets that seemed to
leap like a blazing meteor down from the darkness of the heights. But
the crowd was still as dense, and the street but a third the width of
Market Street. Not even an automobile attempted to force its way. Saloon
doors were swinging. Policemen stood in front of them, but there was no
further disorder. Gwynne and Isabel pressed back against the wall of a
shop and watched and waited. They were to celebrate the birth of the New
Year with the Hofers at a restaurant on the block above, but there was
no prospect of reaching it at present.

The sky was cloudless. If the evening chill had come in from the
Pacific, it was routed by the mass of humanity and the downpour of heat
from the electric lights. All the great signs were blazing, many in
colors. And there was music in all the saloons and restaurants; it rose
and fell with the noise of the tin horn and the hoot of the happy. The
people in the windows here threw down not only confetti but flowers, and
stacks at each elbow added to the mass of color. Even the men had tied
b