street, so narrow that the ranks had to break
their lines to get within the curbs. So without sound of drum or music
they passed through street after street. A regiment is thrilling when it
parades to music: it is more so when it marches in silence.

Presently it passed into a long tunnel, where the footfall echoed in a
startling way. But as it neared the other end, a more startling sound
could be heard. It was a low murmur, as of many voices, and of voices
that were not pleasant. Peter's wisdom in availing himself of the
protection and secrecy of the tunnel as an approach became obvious.

A moment later, as the regiment debouched from the tunnel's mouth, the
scene broke upon them. A vast crowd filled Fourth Avenue and
Forty-second Street. Filled even the cut of the entrance to the tunnel.
An angry crowd, judging from the sounds.

A sharp order passed down the ranks, and the many broad lines melted
into a long-thin one again, even as the regiment went forward. It was
greeted with yells, and bottles and bricks were hurled from above it,
but the appearance of the regiment had taken the men too much by
surprise for them to do more. The head entered the mob, and seemed to
disappear. More and more of the regiment was swallowed up. Finally,
except to those who could trace the bright glint of the rifle-barrels,
it seemed to have been submerged. Then even the rifles disappeared. The
regiment had passed through the crowd, and was within the station. Peter
breathed a sigh of relief. To march up Fifth Avenue, with empty guns, in
a parade, between ten thousand admiring spectators is one thing. To
march between ten thousand angry strikers and their sympathizers, with
ball cartridges in the rifles, is quite another. It is all the
difference between smoking a cigar after dinner, and smoking one in a
powder magazine.

The regiment's task had only just begun, however. Peter had orders to
clear the streets about the station. After a consultation with the
police captain, the companies were told off, and filing out of the
various doors, they began work. Peter had planned his debouchments so as
to split the mob into sections, knowing that each fragment pushed back
rendered the remainder less formidable. First a sally was made from the
terminal station, and after two lines of troops had been thrown across
Forty-second Street, the second was ordered to advance. Thus a great
tongue of the mob, which stretched towards Third Avenue, was press