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Aubrey Walks Part Way Home--and Rides The Rest of the Way |
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"Say, are you all right?" said the latter anxiously. "Gee, those guys nearly got you." Aubrey was too faint and dizzy to speak for a moment. His head was numb and he felt certain that several inches of it had been caved in. Putting up his hand, feebly, he was surprised to find the contours of his skull much the same as usual. The stranger propped him against his knee and wiped away a trickle of blood with his handkerchief. "Say, old man, I thought you was a goner," he said sympathetically. "I seen those fellows jump you. Too bad they got away. Dirty work, I'll say so." Aubrey gulped the night air, and sat up. The bridge rocked under him; against the star-speckled sky he could see the Woolworth Building bending and jazzing like a poplar tree in a gale. He felt very sick. "Ever so much obliged to you," he stammered. "I'll be all right in a minute." "D'you want me to go and ring up a nambulance?" said his assistant. "No, no," said Aubrey; "I'll be all right." He staggered to his feet and clung to the rail of the bridge, trying to collect his wits. One phrase ran over and over in his mind with damnable iteration--"Mild, but they satisfy!" "Where were you going?" said the other, supporting him. "Madison Avenue and Thirty-Second----" "Maybe I can flag a jitney for you. Here," he cried, as another citizen approached afoot, "Give this fellow a hand. Someone beat him over the bean with a club. I'm going to get him a lift." |
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