An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser

there were cries of “Stop that car!”“Stop that car!” still,

owing to the much greater speed of the car, these soon

died away, giving place to the long wild shrieks of distant

horns in full cry.

Sparser by now having won a fair lead and realizing that a

straight course was the least baffling to pursue, turned

swiftly into McGee, a comparatively quiet thoroughfare

along which he tore for a few blocks to the wide and

winding Gillham Parkway, whose course was southward.

But having followed that at terrific speed for a short

distance, he again—at Thirty-first—decided to turn—the

houses in the distance confusing him and the suburban

country to the north seeming to offer the best opportunity

for evading his pursuers. And so now he swung the car to

the left into that thoroughfare, his thought here being that

amid these comparatively quiet streets it was possible to

wind in and out and so shake off pursuit—at least long

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enough to drop his passengers somewhere and return the

car to the garage.

And this he would have been able to do had it not been for

the fact that in turning into one of the more outlying streets

of this region, where there were scarcely any houses and

no pedestrians visible, he decided to turn off his lights, the

better to conceal the whereabouts of the car. Then, still

speeding east, north, and east and south by turns, he finally

dashed into one street where, after a few hundred feet, the

pavement suddenly ended. But because another cross

street was visible a hundred feet or so further on, and he

imagined that by turning into that he might find a paved

thoroughfare again, he sped on and then swung sharply to

the left, only to crash roughly into a pile of paving stones left

by a contractor who was preparing to pave the way. In the

absence of lights he had failed to distinguish this. And

diagonally opposite to these, lengthwise of a prospective

sidewalk, had been laid a pile of lumber for a house.

Striking the edge of the paving stones at high speed, he

caromed, and all but upsetting the car, made directly for the

lumber pile opposite, into which he crashed. Only instead of

striking it head on, the car struck one end, causing it to give

way and spread out, but only sufficiently to permit the right

wheels to mount high upon it and so throw the car

completely over onto its left side in the grass and snow

beyond the walk. Then there, amid a crash of glass and the

impacts of their own bodies, the occupants were thrown

down in a heap, forward and to the left.

What happened afterwards is more or less of a mystery and

a matter of confusion, not only to Clyde, but to all the

others. For Sparser and Laura Sipe, being in front, were

dashed against the wind-shield and the roof and knocked

senseless, Sparser, having his shoulder, hip and left knee

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wrenched in such a way as to make it necessary to let him

lie in the car as he was until an ambulance arrived. He

could not possibly be lifted out through the door, which was

in the roof as the car now lay. And in the second seat,

Clyde, being nearest the door to the left and next to him

Hortense, Lucille Nickolas and Ratterer, was pinioned

under and yet not crushed by their combined weights. For

Hortense in falling had been thrown completely over him on

her side against the roof, which was now the left wall. And

Lucille, next above her, fell in such a way as to lie across

Clyde’s shoulders only, while Ratterer, now topmost of the

four, had, in falling, been thrown over the seat in front of

him. But grasping the steering wheel in front of him as he

fell, the same having been wrenched from Sparser’s hands,

he had broken his fall in part by clinging to it. But even so,

his face and hands were cut and bruised and his shoulder,

arm and hip slightly wrenched, yet not sufficiently to prevent

his being of assistance to the others. For at once, realizing

the plight of the others as well as his own, and stirred by

their screams, Ratterer was moved to draw himself up and

out through the top or side door which he now succeeded in

opening, scrambling over the others to reach it.

Once out, he climbed upon the chassis beam of the toppled

car, and, reaching down, caught hold of the struggling and

moaning Lucille, who like the others was trying to climb up

but could not. And exerting all his strength and exclaiming,

“Be still, now, honey, I gotcha. You’re all right, I’ll getcha

out,” he lifted her to a sitting position on the side of the

door, then down in the snow, where he placed her and

where she sat crying and feeling her arms and her head.

And after her he helped Hortense, her left cheek and

forehead and both hands badly bruised and bleeding, but

not seriously, although she did not know that at the time.

She was whimpering and shivering and shaking—a

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nervous chill having succeeded the dazed and almost

unconscious state which had followed the first crash.

At that moment, Clyde, lifting his bewildered head above

the side door of the car, his left cheek, shoulder and arm

bruised, but not otherwise injured, was thinking that he too

must get out of this as quickly as possible. A child had been

killed; a car stolen and wrecked; his job was most certainly

lost; the police were in pursuit and might even find them

there at any minute. And below him in the car was Sparser,

prone where he fell, but already being looked to by

Ratterer. And beside him Laura Sipe, also unconscious. He

felt called upon to do something—to assist Ratterer, who

was reaching down and trying to lay hold of Laura Sipe

without injuring her. But so confused were his thoughts that

he would have stood there without helping any one had it

not been for Ratterer, who called most irritably, “Give us a

hand here, Clyde, will you? Let’s see if we can get her out.

She’s fainted.” And Clyde, turning now instead of trying to

climb out, began to seek to lift her from within, standing on

the broken glass window of the side beneath his feet and

attempting to draw her body back and up off the body of

Sparser. But this was not possible. She was too limp—too

heavy. He could only draw her back—off the body of

Sparser—and then let her rest there, between the second

and first seats on the car’s side.

But, meanwhile, at the back Hegglund, being nearest the

top and only slightly stunned, had managed to reach the

door nearest him and throw it back. Thus, by reason of his

athletic body, he was able to draw himself up and out,

saying as he did so: “Oh, Jesus, what a finish! Oh, Christ,

dis is de limit! Oh, Jesus, we better beat it outa dis before

de cops git here.”

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At the same time, however, seeing the others below him

and hearing their cries, he could not contemplate anything

so desperate as desertion. Instead, once out, he turned and

making out Maida below him, exclaimed: “Here, for Christ’s

sake, gimme your hand. We gotta get outa dis and dam

quick, I tell ya.” Then turning from Maida, who for the

moment was feeling her wounded and aching head, he

mounted the top chassis beam again and, reaching down,

caught hold of Tina Kogel, who, only stunned, was trying to

push herself to a sitting position while resting heavily on top

of Higby. But he, relieved of the weight of the others, was

already kneeling, and feeling his head and face with his

hands.

“Gimme your hand, Dave,” called Hegglund. “Hurry! For

Christ’s sake! We ain’t got no time to lose around here. Are

ya hurt? Christ, we gotta git outa here, I tellya. I see a guy

comin’ acrost dere now an’ I doughno wedder he’s a cop or

not.” He started to lay hold of Higby’s left hand, but as he

did so Higby repulsed him.

“Huh, uh,” he exclaimed. “Don’t pull. I’m all right. I’ll get out

by myself. Help the others.” And standing up, his head

above the level of the door, he began to look about within

the car for something on which to place his foot. The back

cushion having fallen out and forward, he got his foot on

that and raised himself up to the door level on which he sat

and drew out his leg. Then looking about, and seeing

Hegglund attempting to assist Ratterer and Clyde with

Sparser, he went to their aid.