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Truman Bennet was so weakened from loss of blood and dizziness due to the last blow he had received before he rushed the girls to safety that he feared he would faint while they were in the cab with him. It was only exercise of the giant will within him that he held control of himself till the girls had left him. Had he not been afraid of distressing them with his wounds he would not have allowed them to quit the carriage till safely at their homes. As it was when they turned from him, as he watched them down the street, he smiled weakly for an instant then the world blackened and his eyes became sightless while his body slumped to the street, his knees crumpling under him.

He knew not how long he had remained unconscious. It seemed eternities, suddenly he opened his eyes again and reached his hands to his head as if to ease the pain just above his ear. He felt the soft blood-matted sticky wound and remembered again. He struggled to his feet but slumped again, this time barely being conscious of the face of the cab driver looking back at him.

When he regained consciousness again he was on the operating table in the relief station to which he had been rushed by the cab driver and was being bandaged as a kindly doctor who had heard the cab driver's story was saying:

"Young man, you came very near to being a dead hero at this time. You'd better thank your lucky stars you have been getting your football training at the University.