"He's down yere on Eutaw Street," continued my informant. "Dey's fightin' all 'long dere--I come nigh gittin' hit myself--_he_ gimme ten cents to come tell yer--maybe he's done dade now," he added, cheerfully, as we gained the street, and began to walk. "Dey fet all 'long yere," was his next breathless remark, made some time later. We were now proceeding rapidly up Baltimore Street, as rapidly, at least, as people can who are pushing against a steady stream of agitated humanity. "Dey fawr'd a bullet clean through de Sun-paper room," pursued the boy, "an' dey bust up dem dere winder-glassis--" Pausing involuntarily to look, I caught stray scraps of additional information. "Twenty-five people killed." "As many as that?" "Oh, yes; fully, I should say. The Sixth fired right into the crowd, all along from Gay to Eutaw Street." "Well, I hear the Sixth are pretty well cleaned out by this time, so it's tit for tat." Then-- "The Fifth must be there now--" "The Fifth?--what are they--two hundred men against two thousand?--Lord knows how it will end. I hope this old town won't be burnt, that's all." The boy, listening, turned fearfully around, looking with distended eyes into mine. "Come on," I responded, and we spoke no more until we reached Liberty Street. Then, all at once, above the street noises--the rumbling of fugitive vehicles, the jingle of street-cars, and the hum of excited voices--rose a deep, hollow roar; a horrible sound of human menace in it, which was distinguishable even at that distance. The boy pressed closer, clutching timidly at my hand. "Is yer--is yer gwine ter keep on?" he faltered. "De ole gentlemun, he 'lowed puticler you wa'n't to run no resk 'count o' him." "Where _is_ he?" I asked. "In the thick of it?" "No, sir; he's lay'n' down in a little alley--clean off d' street." "Come on, then; you'll have to show me where it is. I won't let you get hurt." When we first wheeled into South Eutaw Street, I was conscious of an almost painful stillness, more noticeable after the tumult of confused sounds from which we had just emerged. The houses either side were fast closed, doors and windows Some of them were even unlighted, and not vehicle was in sight. The street was partially unpaved, where new gas-pipes had been laid, and piles of paving-stones were heaped on the edge of the sidewalks. The place seemed deserted.