pear, but, Winthrop's shout of warning, and the
wrench as the brakes locked, told her what had happened. She shut her
eyes, and for an instant covered them with her hands. On the front
seat Peabody clutched helplessly at the cushions. In horror his eyes
were fastened on the motionless mass jammed against the pillar.
Winthrop scrambled over him, and ran to where the man lay. So,
apparently, did every other inhabitant of Eighth Avenue; but Winthrop
was the first to reach him and kneeling in the car tracks, he tried to
place the head and shoulders of the body against the iron pillar. He
had seen very few dead men; and to him, this weight in his arms, this
bundle of limp flesh and muddy clothes, and the purple-bloated face
with blood trickling down it, looked like a dead man.

Once or twice when in his car, Death had reached for Winthrop, and only
by the scantiest grace had he escaped. Then the nearness of it had
only sobered him. Now that he believed he had brought it to a fellow
man, even though he knew he was in no degree to blame, the thought
sickened and shocked him. His brain trembled with remorse and horror.

But voices assailing him on every side brought him to the necessity of
the moment. Men were pressing close upon him, jostling, abusing him,
shaking fists in his face. Another crowd of men, as though fearing the
car would escape of its own volition, were clinging to the steps and
running boards.

Winthrop saw Miss Forbes standing above them, talking eagerly to
Peabody, and pointing at him. He heard children's shrill voices
calling to new arrivals that an automobile had killed a man; that it
had killed him on purpose. On the outer edge of the crowd men shouted:
"Ah, soak him," "Kill him," "Lynch him."

A soiled giant without a collar stooped over the purple, blood-stained
face, and then leaped upright, and shouted: "It's Jerry Gaylor, he's
killed old man Gaylor."

The response was instant. Every one seemed to know Jerry Gaylor.

Winthrop took the soiled person by the arm.

"You help me lift him into my car," he ordered. "Take him by the
shoulders. We must get him to a hospital."

"To a hospital? To the Morgue!" roared the man. "And the police
station for yours. You don't do no get-away."

Winthrop answered him by turning to the crowd. "If this man has any
friends here, they'll please help me put him in my car, and we'll take
him to Roosevelt Hospital."

The soiled person shoved a fis