"Water! water!" gasped the wretch faintly.
"Bring him some water, some one," said Brown, who was now giving his attention to Kalman. But no one heeded him.
Old Portnoff found a can, and filling it at the stream, brought it to the group on the slope. In a short time they began to revive, and before long were able to stand. Meantime, the wretched Rosenblatt was piteously crying for water.
"Oh, give him some water," said Kalman to Brown, who was anxiously taking his pulse.
Brown took the can over, gave the unhappy wretch a drink, pouring the rest over his burned and mangled limbs. The explosion had shattered the lower part and one side of Rosenblatt's body, leaving untouched his face and his right arm.
The Sergeant took charge of the situation.
"You I arrest," he said, taking old Kalmar by the shoulder.
"Very well; it matters not," said the old man, holding up his hands for the handcuffs.
"Can anything be done for this man?" asked the Sergeant, pointing to Rosenblatt.
"Nothing. He can only live a few minutes."