But the man with a groan fell flat, rolled over on his side, and lay like one dead in the road.
“Say, Tom, what shall we do?” inquired Harry in an awesome whisper.
“We mustn’t let this man die here, exposed to the storm. He may be seriously injured.”
“It looks that way. I suppose he ran or was blown into that big rock yonder.”
“Yes,” nodded Tom.
“What was he doing, though, out such a night as this on a bicycle?”
“He said something about a doctor. Help me, Harry, we must get him under shelter.”
“We can’t carry him up into the tower.”
“There’s the old tool shed. Ready?”
“Yes, Tom.”