On a technicality, Gunther had been allowed to go free. He was now boasting about an explosion that had taken place just this last July Fourth in the British Pavilion of the New York World’s Fair. Gunther implied to the crowd that, while he himself had not planted any such bomb, he knew full well who had.

“Bastard,” said Russ. “Tries anything on Treasure Island, I’d personally draw and quarter the son of a bitch.”

Gunther was speaking about when he was questioned on the witness stand in New York. “I was asked by the district attorney, ‘How do you salute at your Bund meetings?’ And I said, ‘Like this!’ ”

He gave the sieg heil salute.

“Then he asked me, ‘Is that how an American salutes?’ And I answered, ‘It will be!’ ”

He faced the crowd and saluted. “Sieg heil!”

And some in the crowd, the sort who had filled a rally at Madison Square Garden the year before, responded in kind.

I looked around, wondering where the police were, but then again, I wasn’t sure if anyone was breaking the law. At this point, the Wald brothers unzipped their Berkeley jackets and hurled tomatoes at the speaker. Apparently about eight other friends of theirs were similarly lardered, and instantly Gunther was splotched and oozing with pulp.

Nathan Federman of the student ACLU grabbed at the sleeve of the heavier Wald. “Let him speak, he has every right!”

Federman’s ally Mort Kaplan chimed in, accusing the brothers of acting like the Gestapo.

Immediately the Wald brothers pivoted and began pelting the ACLU boys with the remainder of their tomatoes. “Call us the Gestapo, Kaplan?” yelled the slimmer Wald.

Suddenly the Jewish group and the ACLU group (which apparently was also predominantly Jewish) were beating up on each other.

Meanwhile, Russ had turned a shade of purple that would have won him a prize at a flower show. He bellowed up at Gunther, who was still at the podium, “Go back to where you came from!”

Martha looked with contempt at the near-Nazis on the grandstand. “Little puffed-up weasels. They’re only a threat if we take them seriously.”

Gail was running toward her Berkeley friends to try to intercede. I caught up with her and pulled her away. “No, Gail, it’s not our quarrel.”