a moment. What happened next, happened with such amazing suddenness that in three seconds it became a problem already to be reckoned with, a situation to be met as best one could.
They had knocked some one down in the fog. An instant before she had been reveling in that smooth slipping along—almost the annihilation of friction—and now, between the ticks of a clock, some one, because of this inconsequential little journey of theirs, was robbed of health perhaps, or life. While her mind was struggling to accept a fact so hateful, her feet had taken her to the front of the car almost before the chauffeur had brought it to a standstill. Their victim had clung to that long gray nose—clung for an instant and then gone down. Another man was bending over him, drawing him gently into the pool of radiance their lights made.
"Chip!" the other man was saying. "Chip, old man, are you badly hurt?"
There was no answer. Judy put her arm under the limp man's shoulder, and they raised him up. He stood swaying between them.
"Take him to the car," she said.
A constable (who seemed nebulous all but his buttons, which the light caught) loomed up out of the blackness, and demanded names and ad-
