This was my first desperate experience. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to run on and save myself and I wanted to help Smiler. Something—I don’t know what it was, but I don’t think it was courage or bravery—turned me around and I ran back through the shrubbery to a spot opposite the window from which the shot had been fired. In the clear moonlight I could see that it was raised about six inches and one of its lower panes was shattered. The house was still in darkness. There was no sound inside. I must have been in a panic still. No sane-thinking human would have done what I did next. I ran out in front of the window to Smiler, and standing over him, put my arms under his, lifting him slowly to his feet. Blood was streaming out of his mouth. He slowly and weakly put one arm around my neck. I held it there, grasping the hand that hung limply over my shoulder, and with my other arm around his waist slowly dragged him to the gate and out into the alley where he collapsed. His dead weight was too much for me. I let his body slip gently to the ground. A twitching shudder ran through him. He straightened out on his back and threw his arms wide. He was dead. Still no sound came from the house. Next door I now heard a window thrown up and voices calling, a light appeared. It seemed an age since the shot was fired, yet it wasn’t three minutes. Smiler was beyond my help. I must be off. I was drenched with the blood that spurted from a wound in his neck. It was on my face and hands. My shirt front was saturated with it. My coat was dripping blood. I thought of our room downtown—no chance to make it in that condition. Smiler’s watch chain glistened in the moonlight. I tore at his pockets and found his money. I went through them all, took everything, and ran for blocks and blocks through the alley toward the outskirts of the city. The dawn was coming fast. I must hide. I turned out of the alley into a street and walked on wondering what to do, where to go. A “For Rent” sign on a large, neglected-looking residence halted me. Not a soul was in sight on the street. I dodged into the yard, around to the back, and found the kitchen door unlocked. Inside, I went into what had been the dining room and sat down on the floor exhausted, nervous, and covered with blood.