curiously at the bruised and bleeding features. My
friend was trembling with excitement. He clutched
wildly at the limp form, trying, but vainly, to lift the
woman to her feet. "Why don't you take hold of
her?" he whispered hoarsely. "Help me with her--
quick! quick! Lift her up!" I obeyed without a
word, though with a shudder of aversion as a drop
of hot red blood stung me on the hand.

"Now draw her arm about your shoulder--this
way--and hold it so! And now your other arm
around her waist--quick, man, quick, as you yourself
will want God's arm about you when you fail!
Now, come!" And with no other word we hurried
with our burden up the empty darkness of the
street.

I was utterly bewildered with it all, but something
kept me silent. And so we hurried on, and on, and
on, our course directed by my now wholly reticent
companion. Where he was going, what his purpose
was, I could not but vaguely surmise. I only recognized
that his intentions were humane, which fact
was emphasized by the extreme caution he took to
avoid the two or three late pedestrians that passed
us on our way as we stood crowded in concealment
--once behind a low shed, once in an entry-way;
and once, at the distant rattle of a police whistle,
we hurried through the blackness of a narrow alley
into the silent street beyond. And on up this we