She would apparently have need of it to save herself, for the stragglers in her wake were now impelled by a more dangerous motive than mere curiosity or mischief. The cry of "Witch" had awakened cruel depths in their breasts, and they pressed forward in close ranks with less noise and greater menace than before.
Two or three rough fellows paused to kick stones loose from the clay of the streets, and in a few moments the all-unconscious Rebecca would have found herself in a really terrible predicament but for an accident seemingly without bearing upon her circumstances.
Without warning, someone in the upper story of one of the houses near by threw from a window a pail of dirty water, which fell with a startling splash a few feet in front of Rebecca.
She stopped in alarm and looked up severely.
"I declare to goodness! I b'lieve the folks in this town are all plumb crazy! Sech doin's! The idea of throwin' slops out onto the road! Why, the Kanucks wouldn't do that in New Hampshire!"
Slipping her bag onto her left wrist, she loosened the band of her umbrella and shook the ribs free.
"Lucky I brought my umbrella!" she exclaimed. "I guess it'll be safer fer me to h'ist this, ef things is goin' to come out o' windows!"
All unknown to her, two or three of the rabble behind her were in the act of poising themselves with great stones in their hands, and their muscles were stiffening for a cast when, just in the nick of time, the obstinate snap yielded, and with a jerk the umbrella spread itself.
Turning the wide-spread gloria skyward, Rebecca hurried forward once more, still bent upon overtaking Copernicus Droop.
That simple act saved her.