But the centre had been dealt a heavy thrust, as from a battering ram, with each expression; with each it had bulged a little; but the last lunge drove the whole framework from under the unfinished arch, which came crashing down amid a yellow cloud. Musk shuffled backward in time to save his toes; for an instant then both he and Carlton stood aghast.
Robbed of his latest treasure, and moreover having seen it smashed to atoms before his eyes, Georgie had been howling lustily when the crash came: when the yellow cloud lifted he lay silent enough, in a little brown heap below the scaffolding, and already the blood was through his hair.
Carlton had him in his arms that instant.
"He's insensible," he said quietly. "A nasty scalp wound, and may be more. What day is this?"
"Wednesday."
Musk did not know what he was saying, but the cool question had elicited a correct though unconscious reply.
"Wednesday used to be the doctor's day at the dispensary——"
"And is still," cried Musk, coming to his senses.
"Then one of us must run for him."
"I can't run!"