He would have fought, on the spot, but knew that with one eye closed, and giving him great pain, he would be but a football for the strenuous Darrin.
And now Dave bent over his chum, who, still unconscious, was breathing heavily.
"He's in no immediate danger," breathed Darrin, in great relief.
Then, hearing wheels, he stepped to the end of the alleyway.
As if in answer to his prayer the vehicle turned ont to be a cab, and without a fare.
"Driver, I need you here!" called Dave, and the cab rolled in at the curb.
"Follow me," directed Darrin, leading the way up the alley Catching sight of the prostrate midshipman the driver grinned.
"No, he's not intoxicated!" flashed out Darrin half angrily.
"This is all a trick.

Help me lift him into your cab.

Then drive us to the best physician in the town." Dan was propped in place on the back seat, Darrin beside him.
"Give me the card of your stable, driver," Dave requested.

"I haven't money enough to pay you, but I'll write and have my father send you the amount of your bill." "That'll be all right, sir," nodded the driver who knew the ways of midshipmen, and who also knew that such a "risk" was a safe one.
A few minutes later the cab stopped before the residence of Dr.
Stewart.
"See if the doctor is in," directed Darrin.
The physician was at home, and not engaged.

So Dave and the driver carried Dan into the medical man's office.
"Too bad!" murmured the physician.