"
We hastened forward, but at the next corner a passing hack stood ready
for passengers, and we rolled down the street, the horses' hoofs
outstripped by my anxiety and apprehensions.
One of the men was sent to bring out such of my force as had returned,
and I, with the two others, hurried on to Borton's.
There was none of the sounds of riot I had expected to hear as we drew
up before it. The lantern blinked outside with its invitation to
manifold cheer within. Lights streamed through the window and the half-
opened door, and quiet and order reigned.
As I stepped to the walk, I found the explanation of the change in the
person of a policeman, who stood at the door.
"Holy St. Peter! the cops is on!" whispered Broderick.
I failed to share his trepidation in the presence of the representative
of law and order, and stepped up to the policeman.
"Has there been trouble here, officer?" I asked.
"Oh, is it you, sor?" said Corson's hearty voice. "I was wondering
about ye. Well, there has been a bit of a row here, and there's a power
of broken heads to be mended. There's wan man cut to pieces, and good
riddance, for it's Black Dick. I'm thinking it's the morgue they'll be
taking him to, though it was for the receiving hospital they started
with him. It was a dandy row, and it was siventeen arrists we made."
"Where is Mother Borton?"
"The ould she-divil's done for this time, I'm a-thinking. Whist, I
forgot she was a friend of yours, sor.
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