Mr. Brewster was anxious to know if any one had seen two teeth of
his on the pavement or whether he was to look for later digestive
indications of their whereabouts. Both of the young cricketers had
been battered and bruised, though it was nothing, they gleefully
averred, to what they had meted out. And Carroll had a nasty-
looking knife-thrust in his shoulder.
All of them were disheveled, dilapidated, and grimy to the last
degree, except the Hochwaldian, who still sat his horse, which he
had ridden into the patio. But Miss Polly said to herself, with a
thrill of pride, that no woman need wish a more gallant and
devoted band of defenders. Leaning over them from the inner
railing of the balcony, she surveyed them with sparkling eyes.
"It was magnificent!" she cried. "Oh, I'm so proud of you all! I
could hug you, every one!"
"Better come down from there, Polly," said her father anxiously.
"Some of those ruffians might come back."
"Not to-day," said Sherwen grimly. "They've had enough."
"That is correct," confirmed Von Plaanden. "Nevertheless, there
may be disorder later. Would it not be better that you go to the
British Legation, Fraulein?"
"Not I!" she returned.
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