Bowery Girl Read Online Free PDF Page B

seven. Not counting Calhoun.” Hugh puffed as he tossed bricks to Seamus and Mugs. The boys each put one brick in their left coat pocket and one in their right. Then there came a brick per hand. “I’m gonna smack a brick right in his head, I tell ya. Coming inta Lefty’s without an invite.”
    Mugs peered around the corner. He smacked his slungshot—a leather bag filled with lead pellets—against his palm. “I don’t know,” he said. “It’s crowded out there.”
    â€œYou saying I don’t got good aim?” Hugh snapped. “You saying I’ll miss one of those jacks and hit a kid or something?” His eyes were pink as a pig’s belly—filled with alcohol and anxiety.
    â€œQuiet,” Seamus muttered.
    â€œShut up, Seamus.” Hugh’s lip curled.
    â€œWait for my signal.” Tommy smoothed his hair and rubbed his shoes against the back of his pant legs. He struck a match against the bricks and lit a cigarette that flared red against his skin. He stepped into the pool of gaslight on the street, and leaned against the pole.
    â€œThere’s more than seven of them,” Mollie said.
    â€œShut up,” Hugh hissed. “We’re waiting for the signal.” He shoved past Mugs and stuck his head out to the street. “Calhoun’s out the door. I see him.”
    Mugs grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back. “Wait for the signal.”
    â€œLet’s get’em.” Hugh breathed heavily. “I’m sick of’em.”
    â€œI’m sick of’em, too,” Mugs said.
    â€œI’m gonna flatten that Calhoun, I swear I will—”
    â€œThose sons of—”
    â€œDon’t deserve this street, do they—”
    â€œI’ve wanted to get Calhoun for so long—”
    â€œGet’em—”
    â€œHurt’em—”
    â€œI’ll kill them all—”
    â€œNow?” Hugh called to Tommy. “Now, Tommy?”
    Tommy McCormack shook his head. Then he pushed off the lamppost, taking one step forward. He tossed aside his cigarette.
    Calhoun came into view. He was shorter than Tommy, a lump next to Tommy’s sleek figure. He stopped directly in front of him and stared.
    â€œNow?” Hugh asked.
    â€œWait for the signal,” Seamus whispered.
    Hugh watched Tommy. “He’s letting Calhoun walk by. . . .”
    â€œHe won’t get away—” Mugs said.
    â€œHe will. Tommy’s gonna let him walk right on by and the whole thing’ll be ruined. He’s gonna let him walk—”
    â€œShut up,” Mugs said.
    Then Hugh did it. He grabbed a brick and slung it into the street. “Now!”
    Mugs and Seamus joined in, grabbing bricks and throwing them with all their might.
    On the street, Calhoun covered his head and dashed behind a cart. Someone’s brick caught the horse pulling the cart, and the animal broke out in a gallop, the cart tilting and swaying behind it, spilling vegetables everywhere. People on the street scattered, finding doorways and alleys to escape the rain of the bricks.
    â€œWe’re running you off, Calhoun!” Hugh called out. “All of youse can just—” He hefted another brick, which went off course, crashing through a milliner’s window.
    Seamus grabbed Hugh around the neck and wrestled him to the ground. “You stupid—you wait for the signal! Jesus, you idiot.”
    â€œLet go, I can’t breathe!”
    â€œGo!” Mugs loped forward.
    â€œGo go go!” Tommy yelled, not only to urge the boys on, but to warn anyone in their way to move aside.
    Then the fists flew, because the Rum Runners were out in full force—Mollie counted eight of them. Hugh went down first and started blubbering. Someone kicked Mugs in the back and then got a boot to his face. Seamus flung short punches and was quick enough to dodge fists. But there were too many of them;