Just ahead of him he casually noticed the hurrying figure of a bulky clumsy-limbed man carrying a big, old-fashioned carpet bag.
“Hi! Out of the way, there!” shouted a sharp warning voice, as a fire engine turned the corner suddenly, bearing directly down upon the awkward pedestrian.
The man got flustered and made a forward spring. The satchel he carried slipped from his grasp. He ran back to rescue it.
The ponderous rushing fire vehicle was fairly upon him. Tom instantly saw his peril. There was only one thing to do, and our hero did it promptly and effectively.
Making a forward dash at top speed, Tom fairly bunted into the stooping man. With all his force he struck him, sending him sliding head over heels into the gutter.
The feet of one of the horses attached to the fire engine just grazed Tom’s heel, and, striking the carpet bag, lifted it ten feet in the air. It landed at the curb broken open, its contents scattering far and wide.
Tom slid against the prostrate owner of the satchel, picked himself up, and turned to ascertain the possible injuries of the man whose life he had certainly saved.
There was, however, no gratified expression in the face of the man. In utter concern and disgust he stared at his scattered possessions, wildly threw up his hands in a frantic despairing gesture, and bolted out the echoing word:
“Donner! Donner!”