While Paul was not perhaps so dangerously wounded, yet it was easy to be
seen that the wound was not to be trifled with, for the cut had been
severe and the blood flowed copiously.
Dora, whatever her attitude toward others, had a true solicitude for
Paul, and all the womanliness of her nature came to the surface as she
tenderly bathed Paul's head and attempted to bind the wound with the
rough bandages at hand.
There were several tough-looking men standing about, and from their
ready sympathy, real or feigned, it was easy to be seen that these men,
too, like the others of the underworld, stood ready to do Paul's
slightest bidding, to guard him with their lives if need be.
What was this strange power that this man, scarcely more than a youth,
wielded over these outlawed men?
"Quick!" exclaimed Dora. "Watch the window. We've probably been
followed."
A grim-visaged man moved lumberingly over to the window and glued his
head against the pane, straining his eyes as he peered out.
For a long time he did not move, while, with the others grouped around,
Dora tried to stanch the flow of blood from Paul's injured head.
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