Elaine had scarcely started again in her car down the crowded narrow street. From her position she could not possibly have seen Johnnie, another of the Brotherhood, watching her eagerly up the street.
But as her car approached, Johnnie, with great determination, pulled himself together and ran forward across the street. She saw that.
"Oh!" she screamed, her heart almost stopping.
He had fallen directly in front of the wheels of the car, apparently, and although the chauffeur stopped with a jolt, it seemed that the boy had been run over.
They jumped out. There he was, sure enough, under the very wheels. People came running now in all directions and lifted him up, groaning piteously. He seemed literally twisted into a knot which looked as if every bone in his body was broken or dislocated.
Elaine was overcome. For, following their natural instincts the crowd began pushing in with cries of "Lynch the driver!" It would have gone hard with him, too, if she had not interfered.
"Here!" cried Elaine, stepping in. "It wasn't his fault. The boy ran across the street right in front of the car. Now—we're just going to rush this boy to the hospital—right away!"
She lifted Johnnie gently into the car herself and they drove off, to a very vigorous blowing of the horn.
A few moments later they pulled up before the ambulance entrance to the hospital.
"Quick!" beckoned Elaine to the attendants, who ran out and carried
Johnnie, still a complicated knot of broken bones, inside.