Fred picked me up as though I’d been a baby and carried me into the bathroom. He said, “Tough lines, Pint-Size, but it isn’t as bad as though your nose had been broken. It’ll be sore for a while, that’s all. Here, let’s get some cold water on it.”

He set me on the toilet seat, let cold water run into the wash bowl, took my coat off, and started splashing cold wet towels on my forehead. My mind began to function more clearly. It got so I could focus my eyes.

He said, “That necktie’s a mess. I guess we can find one of the chief’s. Now how about that shirt? We can’t use it. We’ll have to do something about that. We can get the blood off the coat all right. Just a little cold water will fix that. Now, sit right still, and don’t try to move around.”

He got my shirt off, stripped me down to the waist, and sponged me with cold water.

I began to feel better.

The woman came into the bathroom, and said, “I think this shirt will fit him.”

“We want a necktie,” Fred said.

“I’ll get one.”

“And a bottle of alcohol and some smelling salts,” Fred said. “We’ll have him right as a rivet in five minutes.”

The woman came back with smelling salts, alcohol, towels, a shirt, and tie.