“What are you going to do?” asked Mabel anxiously.
“Never mind,” was the reply. “Just do as I say, and hurry.”
Mabel said no more but, according to Shirley’s instructions, took the little one by the arm and stood ready to pull when Shirley gave the word.
Stooping so that her head was under the edge of the wreck, Shirley poked forth a dainty foot and by burrowing a bit with her toe, at last found the child’s foot beneath the wheel. Then, leaning forward and straining every muscle of arms and limbs, the heavy iron wheel was raised from the ground.
“Ready!” she called to Mabel.
Mabel pulled, and the little girl, still crying and screaming, came from under the wreck.
But the strain upon Shirley had been terrible, and no sooner had the child been dragged to safety, than Shirley’s strength gave out, and the wheel settled down upon her own foot.
She did not cry out, but Mabel’s quick eyes detected her friend’s plight. She uttered an exclamation of dismay and hurried to her aid.
“Shirley!” was all she could say.
With her foot pinned beneath the wheel, Shirley smiled at her.