“Good God, Phil! Have they killed you? Here, Turk! Never mind those fellows! Come here, quick; we must get him to a surgeon. I'm afraid they've fixed him. Into our cab with him! Gad, he's like a rag!” It was Dickey Savage, and he was filled with dread. Turk, exploding with impotent rage, and shivering with fear that his master was dead, came to his assistance and they were soon racing for the Bellevue. A pair of wondering, patient, driverless horses watched the departure, but they did not move from the spot where they had been checked by the first attack. Across the doubletree behind them hung the limp form of their driver, a great, gaping wound in his head. He had driven them for the last time, and they seemed to know that his cold lips could never again command them to “go on.” Driven almost to the hilt, in the floor of the cab, was an ugly knife. Its point had been intended for Quentin's throat, but the hand that struck the blow was not as true as the will of its owner. In a high state of alarm and excitement the two men in the cab took their friend to his room, their advent creating great commotion in the hotel The wildest curiosity prevailed, and they were besieged with questions from hotel men, guests and the crowd that had found shelter from the storm. Within ten minutes the news was spreading forth over the city that a wealthy American had been held up and murdered by the daring diamond thieves. Police and reporters hurried to the hotel, and the uproar was intense. The house surgeon was soon at work with the bloody, unconscious victim; Savage and Turk, with their friend, the millionaire, keeping the crowd away from the couch. It was impossible to drive the people from the room until the police arrived. There were two ugly gashes in Quentin's head, one of which, it was feared at first, would disclose a fracture of the skull. Dr. Gassbeck, the surgeon who had attended a wounded prince in the same hotel less that twenty-four hours before, gave out as his opinion that Quentin's injuries were not dangerous unless unexpected complications appeared. Several stitches were taken in each cut, and the patient, slowly recovering from the effects of the blows and the anesthetics, was put to bed by his friends. Savage observed one thing when he entered the hotel with the wounded man. Prince Ugo and Count Sallaconi were among the first to come forward when the news of the attack spread through the office and corridors. The prince, in fact, was conversing with some gentlemen near the doors when the party entered. It was he who sent messengers to the central police office and who told the detectives where and how he had last seen the victim of the diamond thieves.