“Take thot, ye thafe av th’ worruld!” cried the one who had delivered the blow. “It’s Barney Mulloy thot wur watchin’ yez all th’ toime, ye haythen spalpane!”
“Barney Mulloy!”
Frank uttered the name in a joyous cry of recognition; but his voice was drowned by the sudden uproar in the theatre. Men sprang to their feet, and women screamed.
Frank caught Jack by the arm, shouting in his ear: “Come, we must stand by that fellow! He is an old friend of mine!”
“I am with you,” assured Diamond, who had good fighting blood, which was easily aroused.
They forced their way through the throng which surrounded the boy who had struck the Chinaman.
“Barney!” cried Frank.
“Mother av Mowses!” shouted the Irish lad in amazement. “Is it mesilf thot’s gone crazy, or am Oi dramin’?”
“Not a dream,” assured Merry, as he grasped Barney’s hand.
“Is it yesilf, Frankie?”
“It is!”
“Dunder und blitzens!” cried another voice at Frank’s side. “Uf id don’t peen Vrankie Merriwell, you vos a liar!”
Then Frank’s amazement and wonder was complete, for he was grasped and hugged by the arms of a fat boy who was laughing all over his fat, jolly face, and that boy was Hans Dunnerwust, who, with Mulloy, had known him at Fardale Academy when all were students there.
“Hans! Why, where – how – ”
But Frank was given no time for questions, as an angry crowd was pressing about them, and they were in danger.
Merriwell lifted his voice, crying:
“Every American in the place should stand by us! My friend struck the Chinaman because he saw him draw a knife, and the blow was delivered in self-defense.”
Several voices answered, and bursting through the crowd came three men in yachting suits, who assured the boys that they would stand by them.
The yachtmen seemed to be on a lark, and they took great delight in knocking Chinamen right and left, which they did in a highly entertaining manner.
“For the door!” cried Frank, commandingly. “We must get out of here!”
For the door they rushed, sweeping everything before them. Crack! crack! crack! sounded the blows of the yachtsmen’s fists, and they gave a hoarse cheer that seemed to have in it the boom of the surf on a rocky coast.
“Hurro!” shouted Barney Mulloy, in a wild fever of excitement. “It’s mesilf thot’s not been in a bit av a scrap loike this fer a wake! It’s fun, it is! Git out av th’ way, ye pig-tailed rat-’aters! Ye nivver wur made ter live in a whoite man’s country at all, at all!”
“Say, you nefer saw such a fight as this, did I?” cried the Dutch boy, flourishing his arms in a furious manner and striking friends almost as often as foes. “Uf this don’d peat der pand, you don’d toldt me so!”
With a few exceptions, the Chinamen did not seem at all anxious to get in the way of the Americans. It was not the first occasion when an affair of a similar nature had occurred in a Chinese theatre.
Sometimes some of the bloods of the town would come down into Chinatown full of wine and “good intentions,” and it was their custom to end the racket whenever possible by “cleaning out” a Chinese theatre.
Many of the spectators on this occasion believed it was a pre-arranged plan to clean out the theatre, and so they made haste to get out themselves as soon as possible.
The boys and their sailor friends were among those who early rushed out through the door, and they clambered up the step-ladder with no small haste.
It was not difficult to find their way out, for it was only necessary to follow the crowd. Now and then a few of the Chinamen disappeared by means of side doors, but the most of them kept straight on to the open air.
The main streets of the quarter were lighted by paper lanterns, which gave out a dim, mellow light, beneath which the oriental throng looked strange and fantastic.
To Frank it seemed as if they were in Pekin instead of the American city of San Francisco.
Barney Mulloy laughed heartily.
“Did yez ivver see th’ bate av thot?” he cried. “It’s th’ divvil’s own ruction it wur, but nivver a Chink came back fer a sicond dose afther gettin’ a chrack av me fist.”
“Dot’s vot’s der madder mit Hannah!” put in Hans. “Ven I hit somepody my fist mit they nefer lif to dell uf him. Yah!”
“They nivver knew ye shtruck thim, ye Dutch chase,” said Barney, contemptuously.
“Dot vos righd,” agreed Dunnerwust. “Ven I hit nopody it alvays means sutten death.”
“G’won!” snorted the Irish boy. Then Barney caught hold of Frank once more, and gave him a genuine bear hug.
“Begorra! Oi thought Oi’d nivver see yez again, Frankie!” he cried. “Oi hearrud ye wur in Yale Collige, an’ it’s yersilf Oi thought moight get such a great gintlemon ye’d care nivver a bit to see yer ould fri’nds any more at all, at all.”
“You should know me better than that, Barney,” said Frank, protestingly. “No matter what happens to me, you may be sure I’ll always be true to my old friends.”
“Dot vos righdt!” grinned Hans. “Vrankie Merriwell nefer goes pack on his friendts, ur don’d you pelief me. He vas all righdt vrom der top uf his headt ubvard.”
Other visitors kept pouring from the small door that had admitted them to the passage leading to the theatre, and one of the sailors, a handsome-looking man with a full beard, said:
“I think, we’ll get away from here, as the police seem to have a grudge against any one in a sailor’s suit, and this racket may bring some of them down here.”
Immediately Frank said:
“We owe you thanks, sir, for the aid you gave us in getting out of a bad scrape. You responded to my appeal for help immediately, and – ”
The man interrupted with a laugh.
“We were only too glad of a chance to do it, as we were looking for a good opportunity to smash a few Chinks in the mug. Eh, boys?”
“That’s right,” nodded his companions.
Merriwell looked at the men curiously, and he saw they were anything but ordinary sailors. All were fine-appearing men, and they spoke like persons of education.
“We will go along with you, if you don’t mind,” he said. “I think we have seen quite enough of Chinatown to suffice for to-night. What do you say, fellows?”
“I am sure I have,” said Diamond.
“And Oi,” nodded Barney.
“You vos anodder,” grinned Hans, who meant to say he was quite willing to leave Chinatown for the night.
So the little party moved away, and as they went along the leader of the yachtsmen said:
“My name is Chandler and I am stopping at the Baldwin. Have been cruising in my yacht with several friends, but just now I am trying to sell her, as some business has arisen which defeats my plans for a summer’s outing.”
Frank introduced himself, and in a short time the boys were chatting freely with the yachtsmen, who proved to be rather jolly gentlemen.
Passing out of Chinatown they were soon on Market Street, and a walk of a few blocks brought them to the hotel where Merriwell and the friends who had accompanied him on the bicycle tour across the continent were stopping.
Chandler wished to go in and “blow off,” but Frank insisted that none of the party drank.
“If