"It wasn't my fault," he cried. "He ran right under their feet."
"One side!" exclaimed a loud voice, and a burly policeman shouldered his way through. "What's the matter? Give the man some air."
Retto did not look as though he would ever need air again. He seemed quite dead.
"Let me get at him!" called Captain Tantrella. "I know something of medicine."
"Shall I call an ambulance?" asked Larry of the police officer. "I know how to do it."
The bluecoat nodded, glad to have help in the
emergency. Then he proceeded to keep the crowd back while the captain knelt down beside the unfortunate man.
"Bad cut on the head," the commander of the Turtle murmured. "Fractured, I'm afraid. Leg broken, too. It's a wonder he wasn't killed."
The captain accepted several coats which were hastily offered, and made a pillow for the man's head. He arranged the broken leg so that the bones would be in a better position for setting, and then, with a sponge and a basin of water which were brought, proceeded to wipe away the blood from the cut on Retto's skull.
The crowd increased and pressed closer, but by this time more policemen had arrived, and they kept the throng back from the sufferer, so that he might have air.