Therefore, when Frank was knocked in front of the car, Rowe and his companions knew that it would not do at all to let the accident become a matter of public knowledge. So, before the people on the car half realized what had happened, they had carried Frank across the street, got over a fence into the grounds surrounding a private house, and were rushing along toward a thick clump of shrubbery. When they were concealed in this they paused for an instant to get their breath and make a hasty examination of the neophyte. By that time Frank was wholly unconscious. There was a red spot upon his forehead, his clothing was torn and his hands were bleeding a little from scratches. The wounds and bruises would not have disturbed the seniors particularly, but Frank's unconsciousness gave them genuine alarm. "We must keep moving!" exclaimed Rowe. "Let me take my turn at carrying, then," said the one who had been acting as rear guard. This was done. They proceeded across the lawn, climbed another fence into a garden and, having crossed this, came to another street. They were now fairly safe from pursuit by the passengers on the trolley car, who, as a matter of fact, gave the matter no further thought when they were told by the motorman that the affair was a lot of students' nonsense. As it was now very late in the evening the streets were almost deserted and by acting cautiously the seniors succeeded in getting Frank to Rowe's room without interference. There they laid him upon a bed and hastened to apply restoratives as well as they knew how. "It would be simply awful if it should prove that he was dead!" exclaimed Rowe, with a groan. "He isn't dead," said one of the others; "we'll fetch him around----" At this moment the student who had gone for a doctor burst into the room bringing the physician with him. The doctor laid a case of instruments upon the table as he passed and bent over the bed where Frank lay. At that moment Frank opened his eyes and, seeing a strange face above him, said in a surprised tone: "Hello, what do you want?" "Humph!" muttered the doctor, "I thought I was going to have a fine chance to set broken limbs or do some other clever job in surgery. I guess you've cut me out of an operation, young man." "Hey?" said Frank, trying to sit up. His bones ached and he gave up the attempt. "What's the matter, anyway?" he asked. "How do you feel, Merriwell?" asked Rowe, anxiously. "Kind of sore," returned the neophyte. "I should think I'd been in a football scrimmage. Oh!" His eyes brightened as he remembered what had happened to him. "Something went wrong with the----" he began, intending to say "with the initiation," when he caught sight of the doctor's face. Seeing that a stranger was present and remembering his instructions to keep the initiation a secret, Frank hesitated an instant and then said: "Machinery." "Yes," answered Rowe, understanding the point, "the machinery broke down, but it wasn't our fault."