The Doctor ordered Miss Barstow to go home, saying he would wait there until the husband came. When Miss Barstow had paid Danny, she asked him which way he was going. "I'm goin' to see you home, sure," Danny answered, gallantly.
They had left the tenements, and were walking up Roosevelt Street, when a man standing by a lamp-post stared at Danny, and then exclaimed:
"Oh, you little rascal! I've caught you at last! Come along home with me," and he grabbed the boy roughly by the shoulder.
It was Danny's uncle. "You've got fine clothes, and are with a fine lady, while your poor old uncle who had always given you a good honest home is starving," he exclaimed.
Some men who had been lounging about the corner ran up, and Cahill declared over and over to them that his boy had run away from an honest home, and should be taken back and help to support his old uncle, who was sick.
Danny, who had a notion that his uncle really had some sort of right over him, was sick and disheartened at the prospect of going back to his old life, but he had had his liberty too long to be willing to give it up without a struggle. He was a stout youngster; his constant exercise as a messenger-boy kept him in good physical condition, and he made a good resistance to his uncle's efforts to drag him away.
As he was struggling, Miss Barstow ran to him and asked, "Is this the man you told me of--your uncle?"
"Sure; dis is de mug, and he's no good," Danny answered, as he fought.
"Let that boy go," she said to Cahill, sternly.
"Not for you," responded Cahill, surlily.
Miss Barstow stepped to where the light fell on her face, and turning to the crowd of men, said: "Some of you must know me. I want you to make that man let this boy go."
"It's Miss Barstow," one of the men exclaimed. Then he added, "What you say goes down here, lady, mostly, but not in this case. Cahill has a right to the boy's wages. He's a good man, and the kid ain't going to get no harm by going along with him."
[Illustration: DANNY DISCOMFITS THE ASSAILANT.]
Miss Barstow's knowledge of this class taught her that the men had all been drinking, and she knew that the situation was serious. She had often been warned that she was in danger of just such experiences as this, but until now had been saved from danger by the respect that the tenement people felt for her. But these were not even tenement people of the lowest kind. They belonged to the class of idlers who skulked about the saloons in that neighborhood at night, and begged during the day. As she was debating what she should do, Danny managed to trip his uncle hard and break away from him. He ran to Miss Barstow, snatched her umbrella from her hand, jumped between her and the man, and told her to run. One of the half-drunken men lurched toward Danny, but suddenly halted when Danny brought the silver head of the umbrella down on the fellow's head with a whack. That was more than he expected, and while they stood irresolute Danny and Miss Barstow hurried away, Danny keeping between her and the enemy, swinging the umbrella threateningly. They reached the elevated-road station without further molestation, and Danny then found to his surprise that the woman who had been so brave while there was any danger was now white and trembling, and nigh to fainting.