“Aw—you’re a slow one!” shouted a little fellow, shaking his fist toward the car, which came hustling down the slope of the long hill, bounding along as if by jumps, behind time and in a hurry. Suddenly, just as the car approached the crossing, a wagon drove in from the cross street.
Clang, clang, clang!
Loud were the cries of warning. Jerk! Back the horses leaped, almost upon their haunches, as the driver sought frantically to avoid a smash-up. Frantically the motor-man jerked at the brake. Under the sudden restraint the car jumped the rails, and ran down along the smooth pavement. There were wild shouts, shrieks, and groans. Then perfect silence, as motor-man and conductor jumped down and ran forward, and the people in the car hurried off. The car had sped along until it struck the very horseblock on which little Tim was seated.
There was a rush of people as the crowd gathered about the senseless, bleeding figure. The motor-man and many willing helpers lifted the car, while the conductor picked up the injured boy. But he was scarcely able to find room to lay down the burden. Someone brought a blanket to put under him on the cold ground. All were elbowing and pushing and talking, when a burly policeman pushed his way in.
“Back, back, please!” were his orders. “Whose boy is it?”
“I know, I know,” were the answers. Some gave his name, some the name of his father, and his business, and others told about the boy. Some volunteered to run for his father. But while the hurly-burly of talk was going on, Alex had already run for help, and in a moment Mr. Rudiger pushed his way into the crowd.
Many stood in silence and watched as Mr. Rudiger carried the injured and still unconscious boy across the street and stepped in at the door. The policeman helped him, and soon they were upstairs in the doctor’s office. The attention of the crowd was then given to the work of the street-car men as they prepared to get the car back on the rails, in which they finally succeeded. There was much talk and speculation. This work was not yet done, when Mr. Rudiger came out of the street door, together with the policeman and the doctor, and set out for home, carrying Tim in his arms. The boy had not yet come to. From all appearances he seemed to be very seriously hurt. The news went up and down the street that little Tim Rudiger was killed. All sorts of rumors went about. And it was as tho the sunlight had left the street, for all were saddened by the misfortune of the blind cripple boy.
CHAPTER FOUR
Tim’s Christmas
In the days that followed, the shades were drawn low in the pleasant cottage home that had sheltered little Tim all his days. One of the dogs, which was inclined to be noisy, and even the parrot, were taken away. On the sidewalks between the houses, the neighbors walked on tiptoe. Indeed, all the people round about felt deeply for the little cripple. On the avenue people stepped in to ask his papa about him. And from the windows of houses neighboring to his home many eyes looked out to see how long the doctor stopped each day.