"Work your foot back and forth," advised Nina. "Oh, goodness, people are stopping to look at you."
Sure enough, the Saturday afternoon shoppers, a larger crowd than usual for many farmers drove in on the last day of the week to make their purchases, were beginning to be attracted by the sight of the two girls on the trolley tracks.
"How could you be so silly!" cried Nina in vexation. "Look at all the rubes—if there is anything I detest, it is to be made conspicuous."
Rosemary flushed angrily, but a sudden shout drowned her reply.
"Car coming!" cried a man on the curb. "Somebody flag the trolley!"
The Interurban cars operated at a high rate of speed, even through the town, and as the wires started their humming, Rosemary and Nina glanced up and saw a car bearing down on them.
"You'll be killed!" shrieked Nina, taking a flying leap that landed her safely across the tracks.
A man shot out of the crowd toward Rosemary and another dashed up the street in the direction of the trolley, waving his cap. The motorman put on the brakes, there was an ear-splitting noise as the wheels locked and slid and the car stopped a good ten feet from the frightened girl. Meanwhile the man who had come to her rescue had unbuttoned the straps of the pump and pulled Rosemary free from her shoe.
"Fool heels!" he commented, while a crowd of the curious surged out from the curb. "If I had my way no girl should ever own a pair. Here, I'll get it out for you—"
He tugged at the obstinate pump, the heel gave way and the man fell back, the shoe in his hand, the heel neatly ripped off.