“Help!  Police!”

Breaking into a quick run, Hal and Chester soon were upon the scene of confusion.

With their backs to a wall, two young men were attempting to beat back with their fists a crowd of a dozen assailants, who beset them from three directions.

As the two boys rounded the corner, the cry for help again went up.

“Come on, Chester!” shouted Hal.  “We can’t let that gang of hoodlums beat up anyone who speaks the English language.”

“Lead on!” cried Chester.  “I am right with you!”

They were upon the crowd as he spoke, and Hal’s right fist shot out with stinging force, and the nearest assailant, struck on the side of the neck, fell to the ground with a groan.

“Good work, Hal!” shouted Chester, at the same time wading into the crowd of young ruffians, for such the attackers proved to be, and striking out right and left.

Howls of anger and imprecations greeted the attack from this unexpected source, and for a moment the ruffians fell back.  In the time that it took the crowd to return to the struggle, the boys forced their way to the side of the victims of the attack, and the four, with their backs to the wall, took a breathing spell.

“You didn’t arrive a moment too soon,” said one of the young men, with a smile.  “I had begun to think we were due for a trimming.”

“There are four of us here,” returned Hal, “and we ought to be good for that crowd; but, instead of standing here, when they attack again, let’s make a break and fight our way through.  There will be more of them along in a minute, and it will be that much harder for us.”

“Good!” returned the second stranger in French.  “Here they come!”

“Are you ready?” asked Hal.

“All ready,” came the reply from the other three.

“All right, then.  Now!”

At the word the four rushed desperately into the throng, which was pressing in on them from three sides.  Taken by surprise, the enemy gave way for a moment; then closed in again.

Blows fell thick and fast for the space of a couple of minutes.  Then, suddenly, Chester fell to the ground.

Turning, Hal fought his way to the other side of Chester’s prostrate body.  Then, bending down, he lifted his chum to his feet.

“Hurt much?” he asked.

“No,” replied Chester, shaking his head like an enraged bull.  “Let me get at them again!”

He rushed in among his assailants with even greater desperation than before, and two young hoodlums fell before his blows.

In the meantime the strangers were giving a good account of themselves, and the enemy were falling before their smashing fists.

Hal ducked a blow from the closest of his assailants, and, stepping in close, struck him with all his power under the chin.  The youth fell to the ground.

As he did so the ruffian nearest him, with a hiss of rage, drew a knife, with which he made a wicked slash at Hal.  Hal did not see the movement, being closely pressed elsewhere, but Chester, with a sudden cry, leaped forward and seized the hand holding the knife, just as the weapon would have been buried in Hal’s back.