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She looked past her, to the entrance, then put on her eyeglasses.

“Here comes my beautiful granddaughter now.”

“Well then, let me wish you happy birthday!” Samantha said, smiling. Then she looked toward the entrance and saw an attractive bright-faced brunette about her age approaching. Then Samantha’s eyes darted beyond Marie—and became suddenly huge.

“Oh no!” she said.

“What?” Mrs. Schnabel said, and then her head swiveled when she noticed that there suddenly was a loud commotion, the sound getting louder by the second.

The source was in the casino, coming from near the revolving front doors. She focused in that direction and saw that a huge pack of young kids, mostly teenagers, was flooding in through both revolving doors. They were laughing, shouting, whistling—and knocking over chairs and pushing people out of their way as they went.

“What hoodlums!” Mrs. Gladys Schnabel said, her voice almost a hiss.

“A flash mob,” Samantha said.

“A what?” Mrs. Schnabel said, not taking her eyes off the crowd.

“Bored teens get together, cause trouble, then scatter,” Samantha said. “They call it a flash mob.”

“No fooling? We don’t have those up in Bucks County.”

They watched as terrified patrons fled the mob’s path. At least those patrons who could. One older man, struggling with a walker made of aluminum tubing, rushed to move to the side but slipped and was knocked to his knees.

Security guards, and then a couple of uniformed policemen from the nearby Twenty-sixth District, gave chase. They tackled a pair of kids, then a third, at the back of the pack. But they were vastly outnumbered—and it was clear that they would remain unable to contain the rampage until backup help arrived.

There

simply were too many kids to stop.

Mrs. Schnabel stood still, stunned by the sight as the mass pushed toward the retail mall. She made eye contact with one kid, then another, and suddenly became fearful that they not only could but likely would rush into the mall.

And why not? That other hoodlum almost knocked me over when I came here!

There then came from nearby the ear-shattering sound of heavy glass breaking. And then more glass breaking.

Mrs. Gladys Schnabel snapped her head to look.

“Robbers?” she whispered, not sure she believed her squinting eyes.

Working in pairs, young men in dark clothing had what looked like huge hammers, bigger than any she’d seen, and were smashing through the glass tops of display cases at opposite ends of the jewelry store. After two of the robbers cleared away the broken glass, their partners, wearing black gloves, quickly pulled jewelry and watches from the cases and stuffed it all in black sacks.

The store manager stood frozen, his hands covering his bald head.

“Grammy, get down!” Marie said, rushing up to her grandmother.

Then one of the robbers ran out of the jewelry store. He carried one of the stuffed sacks into the main casino and was swallowed by the marauding mass.

Then a second robber followed, and he also blended into the mob, and then a third.

They heard shouting from the jewelry store, and turned in time to see the chubby, balding store manager, who must have decided he had a chance against just one man, reach for the stuffed black bag that hung from the last robber’s shoulder.

As the manager yanked on the strap of the bag, the robber spun, pulled something from under his shirt, and then, off balance, pointed it in the direction of the manager’s chest.

A gun! Mrs. Schnabel thought just as Marie rapidly tugged on her arm.

And then there came a series of loud shots—Pop-Pop-Pop! Pop-Pop!

As one of the glass mannequins shattered, Mrs. Schnabel saw the chubby bald man let loose of the bag strap. He crumpled to the marble floor as the robber, bag still on his shoulder, ran out of the mall.