“Beat it, Kelly,” Duffy flung after them, “and ’phone the chief to break out a bunch of his flat-feet and get ’em down to the wharf on the run. Now you men,” they heard him say as they drew away from the patrol boat, “rip them covers off the guns and git under way. The _Katrina_ over yonder’s got a bunch o’ murderin’ kidnappers on her, and we’re the lads what will run ’em in the cells, sure as Saint Patrick run the snakes out o’ the old country!”