Lying on his stomach, holding to the floor, hiding his face in the dark, dirty asphalt, Yanson howled in terror.

He lay; and cried at the top of his voice until some one came.

And when he was lifted from the floor and seated upon the cot, and cold water was poured over his head, he still did not dare open his tightly closed eyes.

He opened one eye, and noticing some one's boot in one of the corners of the room, he commenced crying again.
But the cold water began to produce its effect in bringing him to his senses.

To help the effect, the warden on duty, the same old man, administered medicine to Yanson in the form of several blows upon the head.