"Hello, there! What are you doing?"
Still no answer of any kind.
"Hey! Wake up!" bade Charley, more boldly. "You'll freeze."
Into Charley's throat welled a little tinge of fear; the figure remained so quiet and motionless. He reached in and shook the man by the shoulder. It was cold and stiff.
"Wake up! Wake up!"
Hurrah! The man was alive, anyway, for now he did stir drowsily, and mumbled as if objecting. Charley noticed that his hands were clenched tightly over the side-pockets of his old jacket, where the corners were drawn into his lap.
"Wake up! You'd better get out of here. You'll freeze. Want me to help you?"
Charley tried to lift the man, and to force him to move; but the man sat as a dead weight, and only mumbled crossly, and held back.
"Oh, crickity!" despaired Charley. "I'll have to get somebody to help. He's half frozen already. That's what's the matter with him."
Charley bolted out, to peer up and down the dusky white street. He had a notion to run to a little store about a block away, when he saw a man walking hastily along on the opposite side of the street. Out into the middle of the street floundered Charley, and hailed him.