An Original Belle Part 58

"Oh, I'm not afraid," was the careless reply. "I'm going to see this scrimmage out, and I like the fun. Let's watch the cops cross the street, and see how they are armed."

As the little squad approached Broadway from a side-street, hastening to headquarters, the Hibernian firebrand and his supposed ally stood on the curbstone, A moment later Merwyn struck his companion such a powerful blow on the temple that he fell in the street, almost in front of the officers of the law. The young fellow then sprung upon the stunned and helpless man, and took away his weapons, at the same time, crying: "Secure him. He's a leader of the mob."

"Yes, and you too, my hard hitter," said the sergeant in command.

"I'll go quietly enough, so long as you take him with me. Be quick about it, too, for I have news that should be known at headquarters as soon as possible."

The police now supposed that they recognized one of a band of detectives, everywhere busy about the city in all kinds of disguises,--men of wonderful nerve, who rendered the authorities very important services, and often captured the most dangerous of the ruffianly leaders.

The fellow in question was hustled to his feet, having discovered Merwyn's gang sooner than he desired. The squad pushed through the fast-gathering and bewildered crowd, and soon reached headquarters.

The young fellow told his story in the presence of Mr. Vosburgh, who evidently had credentials which secured for him absolute confidence on the part of the authorities.

Merwyn soon learned to recognize in his interlocutor, the superintendent of the metropolitan police, a man to whose active brain, iron will, and indomitable courage, the city chiefly owed its deliverance,--Thomas C. Acton.

Confirmation of the sinister tidings was already coming in fast. The brutal mob that had sacked and burned the Colored Orphan Asylum was moving southward, growing with accessions from different quarters, like a turbulent torrent. Its destination was well understood, and Acton knew that the crisis had come thus early. He frequently conferred with Chief Clerk Seth C. Hawley, upon whom, next to himself, rested the heaviest burdens of those terrific days.

Merwyn offered his services on the force, stipulating, however, that he might be in a measure his own master, since he had other duties to perform, at the same time promising to do his share of the fighting.

Mr. Vosburgh drew Acton to one side, and made a few whispered explanations. Merwyn's request was granted at once, Acton adding, "There will be a general call in the morning papers for the enrolment of citizens as policemen."

The moments were crowded with preparations, counsels, and decisions.

The telegraph wires, concentring there from all parts of the city, were constantly ticking off direful intelligence; but the most threatening fact was the movement down Broadway of unknown thousands, maddened by liquor, and confident from their unchecked excesses during the day. They knew that they had only to destroy the handful of men at police headquarters and the city was theirs to plunder and destroy with hyena-like savagery.

Acton, now cognizant of the worst, went to the police commissioners'

room and said: "Gentlemen, the crisis has come. A battle must be fought now, and won, too, or all is lost."

None doubted the truth of his word; but who should lead the small force at hand? Inspector Carpenter's name was suggested, for he was known to be a man of great resolution and courage, and leaders.h.i.+p naturally fell to him as one of the oldest and most experienced members of the force. Acton instructed him not only that a battle must be fought immediately, but also that it MUST be successful.

Carpenter listened quietly, comprehending both the peril and the necessity; then after a moment's hesitation he rose to his full height, and with an impressive gesture and a terrible oath said, "I will go, and I'll win that fight, or Daniel Carpenter will never come back a live man."

He instantly summoned his insignificant force, and the order, "Fall in, men," resounded through the street.

Merwyn, with a policeman's coat b.u.t.toned over his blouse, avowed his purpose of going with them; and his exploit of the afternoon, witnessed and bruited by members of the force, made his presence welcome.

It was now between five and six in the evening. The air was hot and sultry, and in the west lowered heavy clouds, from which the thunder muttered. Emblematic they seemed to such as heeded them in the intense excitement.

Few in the great city at that hour were so deeply stirred as Merwyn.

The tremendous excitements of the day, to which his experience at Mr. Vosburgh's residence had chiefly contributed, were c.u.mulative in their effect. Now he had reached the goal of his hope, and had obtained an opportunity, far beyond his wildest dreams, to redeem his character from the imputation of cowardice. He was part of the little force which might justly be regarded as a "forlorn hope."

The fate of the city depended upon its desperate valor, and no one knew this better than he, who, from early morning, had witnessed the tiger-spirit of the mob. If the thousands, every minute approaching nearer, should annihilate the handful of men who alone were present to cope with them, that very night the city would be at the mercy of the infuriated rioters, and not a home would be secure from outrage.

The column of police was formed scarcely two hundred strong.

Merwyn, as a new recruit, was placed in its rear, a position that he did not mean to keep when the fight should begin. Like the others, he was armed with a locust-club, but he had two revolvers on his person, and these he knew how to use with fatal precision.

From an open window Superintendent Acton shouted, "Inspector Carpenter, my orders are, Make no arrests, bring no prisoners, but kill--kill every time."

It was to be a life-and-death struggle. The mob would have no mercy: the officers of the law were commanded to show none.

As Carpenter went forward to the head of his column, his face as dark with his sanguinary puipose as the lowering west, Merwyn saw that Mr. Vosburgh, quiet and observant, was present.

The government officer, with his trained instincts, knew just where to be, in order to obtain the most vital information. He now joined Merwyn, and was struck by his extreme pallor, a characteristic of the young fellow under extreme emotion.

"Mr. Merwyn," he said, hastily, "you have done enough for two to-day, You need rest. This is going to be a desperate encounter."

"Forward!" shouted Carpenter.

A proud smile lighted up Merwyn's features, as he said: "Good-by.

Thank you for such faith as you have had in me;" and he moved off with the others.

Mr. Vosburgh muttered, "I shall see this fight, and I shall solve that embodied mystery whom we have thought a coward;" and he followed so near as to keep Merwyn under his eye.

A black, sulphurous cloud was rising in the west. This little dark blue column approaching from the east, marching down Bleecker Street, was insignificant in comparison, yet it was infinitely the more dangerous, and charged with forces that would scatter death and wounds such as the city had never witnessed.

No words were spoken by the resolute men. The stony pavement echoed their measured, heavy tread. Turning into Broadway they saw the enemy but a block and a half away, a howling mob, stretching northward as far as the eye could reach. It was sweeping the thoroughfare, thousands in line. Pedestrians, stages, vehicles of all kinds, were vanis.h.i.+ng down side-streets. Pallid shopkeepers were closing their stores as sailors take in sail before a cyclone.

Carpenter halted his command, and sent small detachments up parallel side-streets, that they might come around and fall upon the flanks of the mob.

As these men were moving off on the double-quick, Merwyn left his squad and said to Carpenter: "I am a citizen, and I stipulated that I should fight as I chose. I choose to fight with you."

"Well, well, so long as you fight," was the hasty answer. "You shall have plenty of it, if you keep near me." Then he added, sternly: "Mark you, young fellow, if you show the white feather I'll knock you over myself. Those devils yonder must be taught that the one thing this force can't do is run."

"Brain me if I do not do my whole duty," was the firm reply; and he took his place at the right of the front rank.

A moment later he was startled by Mr. Vosburgh, who seized his hand and said, earnestly: "Merwyn, no man ever did a braver thing than you are doing now. I can't forgive myself that I wronged you in my thoughts."

"You had reason. I'm doing no better than these other men, and I have a thousand-fold their motive." Then he added, gravely, "I do not think you ought to be here and your daughter alone."

"I know my duty," was the quiet reply; "and there are those who must be informed of the issue of this fight as soon as it is over.

Once more, farewell, my brave friend;" and he disappeared.

Carpenter was holding his force until his flanking detachments should reach their co-operative points. When the mob saw the police, it advanced more slowly, as if it, too, instinctively recognized that the supreme crisis was near. In the van of the dense ma.s.s a large board was borne aloft, inscribed with the words, "No Draft!" and beside it, in mocking irony, floated the stars and stripes.

The hesitation of the rioters was but brief. They mistook the inaction of the few policemen opposed to them for timidity, and the immense ma.s.ses behind pushed them forward. Therefore, with a new impetus, the howling, yelling throng approached, and Merwyn could distinguish the features of the liquor-inflamed, maddened faces that were already becoming familiar to him. In the sultry July evening the greater part of the rioters were in their s.h.i.+rt-sleeves, and they were armed with every description of weapon, iron bars, clubs, pitchforks, barrel-staves, and not a few with guns and pistols.

Carpenter stood out before his men, watching the approach of his victims with an expression which only the terrible excitement of battle can produce. His men, behind him, were like statues. Suddenly his stentorian command rang out,--

"BY THE RIGHT FLANK, COMPANY FRONT! DOUBLE-QUICK! CHARGE!"

As if the lever of a powerful engine had been pressed, all clubs were raised aloft, and with swift, even tread the trained, powerful men rushed after their leader, who kept several paces ahead.

When such a disciplined force, with such a leader, have resolved to fight till they die, their power is not to be estimated by numbers.

They smote the astonished van of the mob like a thunderbolt, Carpenter leading by several steps, his face aflame with his desperate resolve.

He dealt the first blow, sending down, bleeding and senseless, a huge ruffian who was rus.h.i.+ng upon him with a club. A second later the impetuous officer was in the midst of the mob, giving deadly blows right and left.

His men closed up with him instantly, Merwyn being among the first to reach his side, and for a few moments the thud of clubs on human skulls was heard above every other sound. Mr. Vosburgh, keeping a little to the rear on the sidewalk, watched Merwyn, who held his attention almost equally with the general issues of this decisive battle. The youth was dealing blows like an athlete, and keeping pace with the boldest. The windows of the buildings on Broadway were now crowded by thousands witnessing the conflict, while Mr.

Vosburgh, following closely, heard the ominous "sing" of more than one bullet. The man who had come that day to the protection of his home and child should not be left to the mercy of strangers, should he fall. To his surprise he soon saw that Merwyn had s.h.i.+fted his club to his left hand, and that he was fighting with a revolver. He watched the young fellow with renewed interest, and observed that his aim was as deliberate as it was quick, and that often when he fired some prominent figure in the mob dropped.

"By all the powers! if he is not coolly shooting the leaders, and picking out his man every time!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the astonished officer.

The police made a clean sweep of the street, and only prostrate forms were left in their rear. Therefore Mr. Vosburgh could almost keep pace with Merwyn.