"It's inhuman," he cried. "They both are hurt, but perhaps still alive.
We must take them to a hospital."
"And endanger all our plans," stormed old Otto. "Throw them into the
woods."
"We'll do nothing of the sort," Frederic insisted, his voice becoming
unusually stern and severe. "I'm going to get both of these people to a
doctor at once, I tell you."
With effort Jane opened her eyes and looked cautiously about. Where was
Thomas Dean? How badly had he been hurt? The Hoffs' automobile was
slowly backing up. As she looked old Otto sprang out of it and righted
the motorcycle. As he did so Jane saw the body of Dean lying senseless
beneath it, but to him the old German paid no attention. He was
examining the motorcycle and still sputtering that the swine should be
left to rot.
"We are going to take them with us in the car," directed Frederic in a
voice of authority. "I command it."
At the word old Otto's mutterings ceased, though he shot a black look at
the younger man.
"This machine," he suggested, "it is not hurt. I will take it and do our
work. There is haste. You remain with the car. Do what you will with
these people."
"Go then," said his nephew curtly. "You can take the train at the first
station and make time."
As the old man mounted the motorcycle and sped away Frederic sprang from
the car, and approaching the spot where Dean's body lay, began making an
examination of his injuries.
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