ly breathe. She wanted to
dodge to the side and run, she wanted to turn back, she wanted to do
anything rather than go straight on. But she felt Danny's presence
behind her, she heard the click-clack he was making with his stick to
encourage her, and she pushed herself forward.

Then her mood changed. What had she ever done to this great lout of a
boy that he should be annoying her thus? He was not only terrorizing her
daily with no provocation whatever but, in addition, he was doing his
best to beat her out of her job. Yes, if she lost this well-paying job
tomorrow, it would be his fault, for he was the one thing on the route
that caused her trouble.... Oh, for the fist of a Jarge to give him the
chin-chopper he deserved!

She was close on to him now, looking him full in the eye. "Otto
Schnitzer, you let me go by!" The words came so naturally that she was
not conscious of speaking. "I guess I got as much right to this sidewalk
as you have!"

"You have, have you? Well, who do you think you are, anyway?" The
Schnitzer pushed out his jaw at her and grinned mockingly.

_Who do you think you are?_ Where had Rosie heard those insulting words
before? Ah, she remembered and, as she remembered, all fear seemed
instantly to leave her heart and she cried out in ringing tones:

"Who do I think I am? I'm the conductor of this car and if you----"

Rosie made for the Schnitzer and, with all her strength, sent the cup of
her hand straight at his chin. You have seen a ninepin wobble
uncertainly for a moment, then go down. The comparison is inevitable. A
yell of rage and fright from the sidewalk at her feet brought Rosie to
her senses. Glory be, she had chin-choppered him good and proper!

But what to do next? What next? In her mind's eye Rosie saw the interior
of a street-car with George Riley dancing a jig on the prostrate form of
a giant. Thereupon Danny Agin and Mary, his wife, who by this time had
joined him, and the woman next door, with a baby in her arms, saw Rosie
O'Brien perform a similar jig over the squirming members of the
Schnitzer.

That trampled creature was sending forth a terrific bellow of, "Murder!
Murder! Mommer! Help! I'm gettin' killed!"

"And just good for him, too!" the woman with the baby shouted over to
Mary and Danny. "I've been watching the way he's been teasing the life
out of that little girl!"

"Good wur-r-rk, Rosie, good wur-r-rk!" old Danny kept wheezing as he
pounded his stick in enthusiast