the street, and fairly ran down the alley that
led to the side entrance of the hall, where a small group was gathered
under the light that hung above the doorway. There stood on the step, a
little above the others, a young man in a grey flannel shirt, evidently a
mechanic. I addressed him.

"What does the doctor say?"

Before replying he surveyed me with surprise and, I think, with
instinctive suspicion of my clothes and bearing.

"What can he say?" he retorted.

"You mean--?" I began.

"I mean Mr. Krebs oughtn't never to have gone into this campaign," he
answered, relenting a trifle, perhaps at the tone of my voice. "He knew
it, too, and some of us fellows tried to stop him. But we couldn't do
nothing with him," he added dejectedly.

"What is--the trouble?" I asked.

"They tell me it's his heart. He wouldn't talk about it."

"When I think of what he done for our union!" exclaimed a thick-set man,
plainly a steel worker. "He's just wore himself out, fighting that
crooked gang." He stared with sudden aggressiveness at me. "Haven't I
seen you some-wheres?" he demanded.

A denial was on my lips when the sharp, sinister strokes of a bell were
heard coming nearer.

"It's the ambulance," said the man on the step.

Glancing up the alley beyond the figures of two policemen who had arrived
and were holding the people back, I saw the hood of the conveyance as it
came to a halt, and immediately a hospital doctor and two assistants
carrying a stretcher hurried towards us, and we made way for them to
enter. After a brief interval, they were heard coming slowly down the
steps inside. By the white, cruel light of the arc I saw Krebs lying
motionless.... I laid hold of one of the men who had been on the
platform. He did not resent the act, he seemed to anticipate my question.

"He's conscious. The doctors expect him to rally when he gets to the
hospital."

I walked back to the Club to discover that several inquiries had been
made about me. Reporters had been there, Republican Headquarters had
telephoned to know if I were ill. Leaving word that I was not to be
disturbed under any circumstances, I went to my room, and spent most of
the night in distracted thought. When at last morning came I breakfasted
early, searching the newspapers for accounts of the occurrence at
Templar's Hall; and the fact that these were neither conspicuous nor
circumstantial was in the nature of a triumph of self-control on the part
of editors