“Mud pies, of course,” grinned Sam. “Healthful, nourishing and great food, for they make you think and work. But only a hog would gulp down a mouthful like that.” “I’ll—whoof—make you eat some—ugh!—of that—br-r-r!—blamed—waugh!—mud pie—gr-r-r!—o’ your’n!” raged the humiliated stoker as he pawed out the last remnants of that muddy mouthful. Of a sudden the stoker, crouching low, made a vengeful bolt forward. But he did not catch Sam Hickey unawares. That young man dodged, then landed a second and harder blow on the fellow’s jaw. This time Mr. Stoker struck the mud puddle, again face downward, with a force that made the man fairly bury his face in the ooze. “Last call to the dining car!” yelled Sam, dancing about. “Gone back for a second helping of mud pie! Wow, but it’s good!” This time the stoker did not regain his feet quite so soon. He had measured his full length in the gutter again, where he lay stretched out, none of his companions making an effort to assist their fallen shipmate nor to avenge the blow that had laid him low. “Right hot off the bat,” jeered the stokers. The fallen man was making desperate efforts to pull himself together when a policeman laid a heavy hand on Sam Hickey’s collar. “That’s the time I caught you in the act, young man. You come with me!” commanded the officer sternly. “You leggo of me! I’ll do nothing of the sort,” retorted the lad belligerently, struggling to free himself, surprised at his inability to throw off the officer’s grip. It was Sam’s first experience with a New York policeman. “Yes, let the kid go,” shouted the crowd. “He’s all right. He is a winner, even if he did hand it out to a shipmate.” Dan edged his way around in front of the policeman. He saw that Sam’s lips were set tight and knew that this meant trouble. “Take it easy, Sam,” warned Dan in a low tone. “Officer, this boy has done nothing worse than to punish a ruffian. It is the other man whom you ought to arrest, if anyone.” “What’s this you say? Don’t you dare interfere with an officer, young man, or in you go!” “I am not interfering, sir.” “You are, but you’d better not.” “I am just trying to explain. That fellow there, picking himself up from the ground, kicked the old apple woman’s wagon into the air. See, she’s just crawling out from under it now. I should not be surprised if she were hurt. Pretty much all her wares are spoiled, as you can see for yourself.” “He did——” “My friend Sam punched the fellow, but the man deserved it. I should have done it myself if he had not, though I am sure I could not have done so thorough a job.” “You—you say the stoker there kicked the old woman’s cart over?” questioned the policeman. “Yes, sir.” “And your friend handed him one for it?” “_Two_ of them.” “And who are you fellows, anyway?” Dan gave the officer their names and addresses. “What are you doing here?”