It was the Gray Gentleman who first reached the spot and prostrating himself upon the roadbed reached down to clasp her arms and draw her up to safety.
“You precious child! You heroine!”
She opened her eyes at that, gave him one radiant smile, and promptly fainted away. Which, she afterward declared, was a very foolish thing for a sensible girl to do.
She as promptly revived, however, and there was Bonny-Gay hugging and thanking her, but not saying good-by, at all! And there was Mrs. McClure, that proud and dignified lady, snatching the crooked little figure from the Gray Gentleman’s arms, to enfold it in her own and to weep and cry over it in the most astonishing fashion.
“Oh! you darling, darling child! You’ve saved our lives, saved Bonny-Gay, who’s more than life to us. Little did I guess how noble you are. Nobler, Mary Jane, than anybody I ever knew.”
It was like a dream. The people, all the passengers and trainmen, crowding round to thank and bless the little hunchback, who now rested in her own father’s arms, while he beamed upon her, proud and happy, but with soul-cleansing tears streaming down his softened face. And there was Mr. McClure, laying his hand kindly upon William Bump’s shoulder and begging:
“For any injustice I’ve done you, for any injustice you’ve done me, let this hour make amends. As man to man—trust me, William Bump.”
“Aye, Boss. I will, I will and the poor man looked into the face of the rich man and behold! it was as that of a brother.”
“What’s all this to-do?” cried Mrs. Stebbins, to Mrs. Bump. “The express has stopped and there’s a crowd of people coming this way.”