I'm not damaged a bit." With this assurance Horace darted back to his mother in time to extricate her from the crowd which, whatever happens, is sure to collect in the streets of London at a minute's warning.
"He's all right," said Horace--"not hurt a bit.

Come on, mother, out of this; he'll probably catch us up before we're home.

I say," said he, and his voice trembled with excitement and brotherly pride as he spoke, "wasn't it splendid ?" Mrs Cruden would fain have stayed near, but the crowd made it impossible to be of any use.

So she let Horace lead her home, trembling, but with a heart full of thankfulness and pride and love for her young hero.
Reginald, meanwhile, with the coolness of an old football captain, proceeded to pick up his man, and appealed to the crowd to stand back and give the fellow room.
The boy lay half-stunned with his fall, his face covered with mud, but to Reginald's delight he was able to move and with a little help stand on his feet.

As he did so the light from the lamp of the cab fell on his face, and caused Reginald to utter an exclamation of surprise and horror.
"Young Gedge!" The boy looked at him for a moment in a stupid bewildered way, and then gave a short startled cry.
"Are you hurt ?" said Reginald, putting his arm round him.
"No--I--I don't think--let's get away." Reginald called to the crowd to stand back and let them out, an order which the crowd obeyed surlily and with a disappointed grunt.