for the doc," he
cried, eagerly. He was enjoying the situation keenly.

"Well," replied Allbright, "be quick about it. Tell him there's a man
badly hurt at my house."

The boy sped like a rocket, and three more with him. They all yelled
as they ran. They were street gamins of the better class, and were
both sympathetic and entertained. They lived in a tenement-house near
Allbright, and knew him quite well by sight.

Meantime the two policemen carried Carroll the short distance to
William Allbright's house. He was quite unconscious, and it was an
undertaking of considerable difficulty to carry him up the stairs,
since the Allbrights lived in the second story.

The clerk in the department store, and his mother, who lived on the
first floor, came to their door in undress and offered their
hospitality, but Mr. Allbright declined their aid.

"No," he said. "I know him. It is Mr. Carroll. He had better be taken
up to my rooms."

When at last they laid the unconscious man on Allbright's bed, which
his sister, pale, and yet with a collectedness under such surprising
circumstances which spoke well for her, had opened, the policeman who
was not an athlete, and was, in fact, too stout, wiped his forehead
and said, "Gee."

The other remained looking at the injured man soberly.

"Guess he's hurted pretty bad," he remarked again.

"You bet," said the first. "Gee!"

Allbright's sister came with the camphor-bottle, which she kept in a
sort of folk-lore fashion, as her mother had used to do in the
country. Allbright brought the whiskey, of which he kept a small
supply in the house in case of dire need, and stood over Carroll with
that and a teaspoon, with a vague idea of trying to insinuate a few
drops into his mouth.

The two policemen clamped heavily down-stairs, agreeing that they
would remain until the doctor came, and see if it was to be the
hospital after all.

"Guess he's hurted pretty bad," remarked the handsome policeman for
the third time.

The doctor came quickly, almost on a run. He lived within a block,
and had not a large practice. He was attended by a large throng of
boys, for the three had served as a nucleus for many more. He turned
around to them with an imperative gesture as he entered the house
door.

"Now you scatter," said he. He was a fair man, but he had at once an
appeal of good-fellowship and a certain force of character. Besides,
there were the two policemen hovering near. The boys withdre