"Why," gasped Bob, starting back in surprise. "It's Lena."
"What?" demanded Hugh.
"It certainly is. Look at the blood on her shoulder."
"Is she dead?"
"I don't know." He took hold of Lena's wrist and felt for her pulse. "Her
heart is still beating," he announced a moment later.
"Hadn't we better get a doctor?"
"I should say so," exclaimed Bob. "Call up Doctor Clarke and tell him to
come down here just as fast as he can."
Hugh hastened to obey, while Bob secured a towel soaked in water and
began to bathe the wounded woman's face. How had it all happened? Perhaps
one of the factory guards had surprised her at some criminal work and had
shot her as she fled. Bob did not know enough to understand whether she
was badly wounded or not; at any rate she was still bleeding profusely.
Presently Hugh reported that the doctor would be down just as quickly as
he could. He had promised to start at once.
"What shall we do?" inquired Hugh.
"Don't you think we ought to stay here with Lena?"
"I don't see that we can do anything for her, and we may be needed
outside.
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