Barbara had sprung away from him. But for Worth's quick arm, she would have been into the machines.
"No!" she said between locked teeth, tears on her cheeks, "I can't let him."
"Why, Barbara!" I said, astonished; and poor Eddie almost blubbered as he begged,
"Aw, come on, Miss Barbie. It was my fault in the first place—leavin' that damned lathe run. Yuh got to let me—"
"But if it doesn't work?"
"Sure it'll work. Would I offer to use it for you if I hadn't tried it out lots o' times—to pull splinters and—"
"Give me that magnet," Worth reached the long arm of authority, got what he wanted, shouldered Hughes aside, and took hold of the girl with, "Quit being a little fool, Barbara. That thing's only caught in your lashes now. Let it get in against the eyeball and you'll have trouble. Hold still."
The command was not needed. Without a word, Barbara raised her face, put her hands behind her and waited.
Delicately, Worth caught the dark fringe of the closed eye, turned back the lid so that he could see just what he was at, brought the horse-shoe almost in touch, then drew it away—and there was the tiny steel splinter that could have cost her sight, clinging to the magnet's edge.
"Here you are," he smiled. "Wasn't that enough to call you names for?"