''
They laid him on a bench top, softened with the coats of his
followers. At the carriage, standing in Farwell Street, they
laid him across the two seats. Selma got in with him. Tom
Colman climbed to the box beside the coachman. Jane and Miss
Clearwater, their escorts and about a score of the Leaguers
followed on foot. As the little procession turned into Warner
Street it was stopped by a policeman.
``Can't go down this way,'' he said.
``It's Mr. Dorn. We're taking him home. He was hurt,''
explained Colman.
``Fire lines. Street's closed,'' said the policeman gruffly.
Selma thrust her head out. ``We must get him home----''
``House across the street burning--and probably his house, too,''
cut in the policeman. ``He's been raising hell--he has. But
it's coming home to him at last. Take him to the hospital.''
``Jane,'' cried Selma, ``make this man pass us!''
Jane faced the policeman, explained who she was. He became
humbly civil at once. ``I've just told her, ma'am,'' said he,
``that his house is burning. The mob's gutting the New Day
office and setting fire to everything.''
``My house is in the next street,'' said Colman. ``Drive there.
Some of you people get Dr. Charlton-- and everything. Get busy.
Whip up, driver. Here, give me the lines!''
Thus, within five minutes, Victor was lying upon a couch in the
parlor of Colman's cottage, and within ten minutes Dr. Charlton
was beside him and was at work.
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