horn had given warning of its noiseless approach. Van had but an instant to step out of its path when on it shot, bearing down on the unconscious boy ahead. The little chap was walking in the middle of the road and whistling so loudly that no hint of the oncoming danger reached him. The man in the motor saw the child and sounding his horn, swerved to the left; but it was too late. The speeding car caught the lad, struck him, and tossed him to the roadside rushing on in its mad flight faster, if anything, than before. In vain did Van call after it. His protest was useless. The great red vehicle whirled forward, a speck in the sunshine, and was lost to view. Terror-stricken Van darted to the child's side and bent over him. His eyes were closed and an ugly gash in his forehead was bleeding profusely. [Illustration: NO HORN HAD GIVEN WARNING] Binding a handkerchief round the little fellow's head the older boy lifted him in his arms and retracing his steps ran with him down the road, across the Sawyer lawn, and up the steps of the Colversham infirmary. A young orderly who was lounging at the door came forward and on seeing the child's face spoke quickly to a physician who was passing through the hall. Together they took the little boy from Van's arms and carried him to a cot in an adjoining room, anxiously plying Van with questions as they went. Briefly Van related the story. "Such men should be hung! Prison is too good for them!" snapped the doctor angrily. He passed his hand with infinite tenderness over the tiny, still form on the bed. "Is he much hurt, sir?" questioned Van eagerly. "I can't tell yet. He is hurt enough so that he doesn't come to his senses, poor little chap! Here, Jackson, ring for a couple of nurses. We'll get the child up-stairs." Van tagged behind them more because he was anxious to hear of the lad's condition than because he could be of any real use.