ies, and hard behind
him Labor Commissoner O'Neill, mopping his face as he ran. These two
were known to the neighborhood, with their right of going in, and no
questions asked. Out again came the ambulance surgeon, shaking his head
jauntily at all inquiries. Out lastly, after an interval, issued Mr.
Pond, and disappeared into the establishment of Henry Bloom, who was
known to have loaned his camp-chairs free, the day Doctor got up this
here Settlement....

Then stillness enveloped all. Nothing seemed to stir. And no one could
remember when he had seen those windows dark before.

Within, upstairs, the two men, alike only in this one tie, stood about,
waiting; waiting for Pond's return; waiting only because they were loath
to go. What little had been for their hands to do was done now.

The men of the yellow wagon, breathing hard as they came up the steps,
had sought out the bedroom. But Mr. Dayne said that a soldier should lie
in his tent. So they had made sure that the three-legged lounge in the
office was steady, and got a fresh counterpane from red-lidded Mrs.
Garland. Then, when Pond was gone, the other two had thought to make
ready against the arrival of Bloom. However, they were soon brought to
pause here, finding nothing to make ready with. There was an overcoat
hung in the clothes closet, but otherwise it was entirely bare; hangers
dangling empty. The men had found the sight somewhat sad.

But Mr. Dayne, who had been a parson before he was a Secretary, had said
no matter. Let him go in his patches upon his great adventure....

It had seemed natural to these two to be doing the last small services.
There was no family here; friends' love was needed. But now there was
only waiting....

Mr. Dayne, in Canal Street in his own business, had been at the Heth
Works in the first uproar. At intervals, he had told the story to the
others: a story of one machine too many unloaded on a strained floor; of
a dry beam breaking with a report like a cannon; of men and women
stampeding in the wild fear that the building was about to collapse. On
the second floor, but two had kept their heads; and the young doctor,
for all his bad foot, had been the quicker. It was supposed that the
base of the machine itself had struck him, glancing. Mr. Heth, found two
feet away, was buried by a litter of debris; his escape from death was
deemed miraculous. And when they brought him round, it was told that his
first word had been: "Vivian hur