As he did so, a bottle came
whizzing at his head with deadly aim. Fortunately he had been keeping
his head partly turned curiously toward the crowd, and he saw the
missile in time to dodge. It missed him and went hurtling on, just
passing between two policemen and smashing on the iron bars of the
railing.
"You nearly got hit that time," said one of the policemen, as Hamilton
showed his badge and was let through. "How did you get in with them?"
"Just doing my work," the boy answered, "and got carried right along. I
was curious at first,--then when I wanted to get out I found I couldn't.
I think," he added, a little nervously, for the flying jagged bottle had
startled him not a little, "that's the first time I've been in front of
a mob."
"I wish it was the last I'm likely to be," was the reply, "especially a
crowd of women like that. Men you know what to do with."
"What do you suppose they'll do?" asked the boy. "Try to rush the
school?"
"They did once not far from here," the policeman answered, "it was a
school on the East Side, where nearly all the children were Jewish, and
in order to make it easier for the poorer children the school
authorities had opened a sort of restaurant where the kids could get
lunch for three cents.
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