“You can’t pass us that way, ladies,” Dick heard one of the pair say. “We want to know your names and where you are going--that’s what.” “Hands off those ladies!” cried Dick, running up. [Illustration: Right in front of them, not ten feet away, a huge shiny head, long and flat, with an enormous mouth filled with horrible teeth and two great, glittering eyes set on the sides, projected over the rocks. “The monster!” shouted Dick, and instantly the head darted forward, followed by a long, sinewy neck. Inset 1: MR. MARTIN MUDD. Inset 2: “HANDS OFF THOSE LADIES.”] “Mind your own business,” snarled one of the “lushers,” aiming a blow at Dick. “What is it to you?” “This!” cried Dick, striking out from the shoulder and landing his fist between the fellow’s eyes, tumbling him back against the electric light pole. The fellow gave a yell, reeled and fell over in the gutter, while the other one jumped in and caught Dick by the throat. “I’ll kill you for this!” he hissed, whipping out a long knife and flourishing it around the neighborhood of Dick’s heart, as he backed him up against the post. CHAPTER II. ANOTHER MYSTERY OF A DIFFERENT SORT. Dick was in a dangerous fix. The fellow who had caught hold of him was very drunk and had a grip like a vise. The two girls screamed, while Dick tried to grab the knife which the “lusher” kept flourishing, swearing horribly at Dick all the while. How it would have ended if help had not come promptly it is impossible to say, but, as it happened, just at this critical moment a man came dashing around the corner. He was a tall and very thin person, shabbily dressed in an old ulster and a battered plug hat. He seemed to take in the situation at a glance and pounced upon the “lusher” without ceremony, wrenching away the knife and flinging it into the street, pounding the fellow about the head and face with such vigor that he promptly took to his heels and made off, followed by his friend. “There!” exclaimed the man in the ulster. “There! That’s the way to do it! Ladies, your most obedient! Let me see, have I not the pleasure of addressing Miss Clara Eglinton? Ah, yes. I thought so. Miss E., your humble servant. Yours, too, Miss What’s-your-name, and yours, my dear sir. My name is Mudd. Martin Mudd. I am always ready and willing to come to the assistance of any one in distress.” “I’m sure I’m ever so much obliged, sir,” replied Dick. “My name is Darrell. Dick Darrell, I----” What was the matter with Martin Mudd? The instant Dick announced his name he started back theatrically, stared, raised his hat to the two girls, and, wheeling about, turned the corner and disappeared. “Is he crazy? He must be!” exclaimed Dick.