Harrigan could see the heaving shoulders of the defender over the heads of the assailants, and the crack of hard-driven fists.

The attackers were crushed together and had little room to swing their arms with full force, while the big man stood with his back against the wall of the cottage and made every smashing punch count.
As if by common assent, the soldiers suddenly desisted and gave back from this deadly fighter.

His bellow of triumph rang over the clamor.
His hat was off; his long black hair stood straight up in the wind; and he leaped after them with flailing arms.
But now the police had managed to pry their way into the mass by dint of indiscriminate battering.

As the black-haired man came face to face with the sergeant, the light gleamed on a high-swung club that thudded home; and the big man dropped out of sight.

He came up again almost at once, but with men draped from every portion of his body.