Water! He looked around. A broken pitcher stood on the table half
filled. He tasted it dubiously. It was water, luke warm, but water! He
soused a towel he found on the washstand into it and slopped it over
Mark's face. He went through all the manoeuvres they use on the
football field when a man is knocked out, and then he bethought him of
the milk. Milk was an antidote for poisons. If he could get some down
him!
Carefully he rinsed out a glass he found on the bureau and poured some
milk in it, crept on the bed and lifted Mark's head in his arms, put
the glass to his lips, and begged and pled, and finally succeeded in
prying the lips and getting a few drops down. Such joy as thrilled him
when Mark finally swallowed. But it was a long time, and Billy began to
think he must go for the doctor, leave his friend here at the mercy of
who would come and go after all. He had hoped he might keep his shame,
and Mark's capture from everybody, but what was that verse the teacher
had taught them once awhile ago? "Be sure your sin will find you out."
That was true. He couldn't let Mark die. He must go for the doctor. Doc
would come, and he would keep his mouth shut, but Doc would
know, and Billy liked Doc. Well, he would have to get him! Mark
would hate it so, too, but Billy would have to!
It was just then that Mark drew a long deep breath of the sweet air,
sighed and drew another. Billy pressed the glass to his lips and Mark
opened his eyes, saw the boy, smiled, and said in a weak voice: "Hullo, Billy, old boy, got knocked out, didn't I?" Then he closed his
eyes and seemed to go away again. But Billy, with wildly beating heart
poured some more milk and came closer: "Drink this, Cart. It's good. Drink it. We gotta get them dirty bums,
Cart! Hurry up an' drink it!"
Billy understood his friend. Mark opened his eyes and roused a little.
Presently he drank some more, nearly a whole glass full and Billy took
heart of hope.
"Do ya think ya could get up now, Cart, ef I he'ped ya?" he asked
anxiously, "We gotta get after those guys ur they'll make a getaway."
"Sure!" said Mark rousing again. "Go to it, Kid. I'm with you," and he
tried to sit up. But his head reeled and he fell back. Billy's heart
sank. He must get him out of this house before the two keepers
returned, perhaps with Pat or some other partner in their crime.
Patiently he began again, and gradually by degrees he propped Mark up,
fed him more milk, and urged him to rise; fairly lifted him with his
loving strength, across the room, and finally, inch by inch down the
stairs and out the back door.