They came close upon each other, but the Bavarian was just about half a horse's length ahead. A terrific shouting and laughter was set up by the audience, and this droned in the ears of the racers as they sped on in insane haste. Everybody got up and crowded along the sidewalk, and there were cries raised: "That's it, that's it! Run, Saxon, defend yourself: don't let the Bavarian have it all his own way! One of the three has already given in--there are but two of them left." The gentlemen who were standing on the tables and chairs in the gardens and roadhouses laughed fit to split their sides. Their roars sounded across the highway and streets, and woke the echoes, and the affair was turned into a popular festival. Small boys and the entire rabble of the town followed densely in the wake of the two, and this mob stirred up thick volumes of biting dust, so that the racers were almost stifled before they arrived at the near goal. The whole immense cloud rolled towards the town gate, and even women and girls ran along, and mingled their high, squeaking voices with those of the male ruffians. Now they had almost reached the old town gate, the two towers of which were lined with the curious who were waving their caps and hats. The two were still running, foaming at the mouth, eyes starting out of sockets, running like two run-away horses, without sense or mind, their hearts full of fear and torture. Suddenly one of the little street boys knelt down on Jobst's small vehicle, and had Jost pull him along, the crowd howling with appreciation of the joke. Jobst turned and pleaded with the youngster to get off, even struck at him with his staff. But the blows did not reach the urchin, who merely grinned at him. With that Fridolin gained on Jobst, and as Jobst noticed this, he threw his staff between the other's feet, so that Fridolin stumbled and fell. But as Jobst attempted to pass him, the Bavarian pulled him by the tail of his coat, and by the aid of that got again on his feet. Jobst struck him upon his hands like a maniac, and shouted: "Let go! Let go!" But Fridolin did not let go, and so Jobst seized him also by the coat tail, and thus both had hold of each other, and were slowly making their way into the gateway, once in a while attempting to get rid of the other by venturing on a bound. They wept, sobbed and howled like babies, shouted in the agony of their grief and fear: "My God, let go!" "For the love of Heaven, let go!" "Let go, you devil; you must let go!" Between whiles each struck hard blows at the other's hands, but with all that they advanced a little all the time. Their hats and staffs had been lost in the scuffle, and ahead of them and behind them the hooting mob was accompanying them, their escort growing more turbulent and violent each minute. All the windows were occupied by the ladies of Seldwyla, and they threw, so to speak, their silvery laughter into this avalanche