The agonizing shriek startled Gud, so that he leaped sideways rather spryly—considering that he was not slender. Just as he leaped, a chariot rushed by with the speed of light, which is the speed limit. Had Gud been less spry he would have ended fatally, the chariot would not have stopped, and Gud would have never known what it was. But having been spry, Gud had leaped almost out of the way; only his staff had been knocked from his hand and his elbow broken. Observing the injury done to the pedestrian, the demon who drove the chariot caused its speed to abate, and presently it wheeled about and came roaring back to where Gud stood, and stopped.
The demon alighted and said: "Seems we had a little accident."
"Nay, it feels, I know not seems," returned Gud, rubbing his elbow.
"Pedigreed?" asked the demon.
"No, fractured," said Gud.
"Dead, I take it," remarked the demon, and he kicked something that lay limp and prone on the highway.
Then Gud observed that the Underdog was dead.
"How much?" asked the demon. And before Gud could speak, the demon pulled out a roll of the medium of exchange and unrolled it and handed Gud a portion of the medium.
As Gud had no pockets he put the medium under his girdle and remarked: "If my staff had not been broken, I could revive him."
"A pulmotor would be more likely," said the demon; and he went to the chariot, brought back an instrument and applied last aid to the Underdog, who presently wagged his tail feebly, opened his eyes and whined piteously.