"Help! Help!"Frank Chadwick, strolling along the water-front in Naples, stopped suddenly in his tracks and gazed in the direction from whence had come the cry of distress."Help! Help!" came the cry again, in English.Frank dashed forward toward a dirty-looking sailors' boarding house, from the inside of which he could distinguish the sounds of a struggle.As he sprang through the door, at the far end of the room he saw a little man in a red sweater, unmistakably an American, apparently battling for his life with two swarthy Italians, both armed with gleaming knives.Frank jumped forward with a cry, and as he did so, the Italians turned and fled. The little American wiped his face on his sleeve, and then turned to Frank with outstretched hand.