"Stand back, gentlemen! Lift him up. What's the row? What is it,
Saunders? Who did it? Speak, man!"

But Saunders, who was still supporting himself against the wall, only
looked at them with a singular and half-apologetic smile, and then
leaned forward as if to catch the eye of Shuttleworth, who was
recovering consciousness in the uplifted arms of his companions. But
neither spoke.

"It's some d----d Greaser inside!" said Thompson, with sudden ferocity.
"Some of her cursed crew! Break down the doors, boys!"

"Stop!"

It was the voice of Shuttleworth, speaking with an effort. He was
hard hit, somewhere in the groin; pain and blood were coming with
consciousness and movement, and his face was ghastly. Yet there was
the same singular smile of embarrassment which Saunders had worn, and a
touch of invincible disgust in his voice as he stammered quickly, "Don't
be d----d fools! It's no one in THERE. It's only me and HIM! He'll tell
you that. Won't you, Saunders?"

"Yes," said Saunders, leaning anxiously forward, with a brightening
face. "D--n it all--can't you see? It's only--only us."

"You and me, that's all," repeated Shuttleworth, with a feverish laugh.
"Only our d----d foolishness! Think of it, boys! He gave me the lie, and
I drew!"

"Both of us full, you know--reg'lar beasts," said Saunders, sinking back