“Shame on you, boys, for tormenting the poor dog,” she said, sternly. “Can’t you see that it is lame, and sick, and frightened? How would you like to be thrown into the fountain yourselves? Do let the poor thing go and don’t be so cruel.”
“Aw, come off your perch,” said one of the biggest boys, saucily, as he made a grab for the dog, just as it clambered up over the basin.
“Don’t you dare do that again,” cried Marion, who was now furious.
The boy grinned in her face as he caught the dog and threw it with all his might into the very centre of the fountain.
What followed was a surprise to every occupant of the benches, and as for the boys, their eyes almost popped out of their heads in wonder.
As quick as a flash Marion caught the big boy by the collar. Her grip was like iron, for she was in deadly earnest.
The next second she had lifted him completely off his feet, and with a terrific effort, flung him head first into the water.
Then catching up the poor little dog, all dripping, in her arms, she started for the street, as if nothing had happened.
A roar of delight went up from every spectator of the scene, and as for the boys, they jeered and laughed at their companion, shouting their approval of Marion’s skill in the regular street gamin manner.
“That was well done, miss,” said a big policeman, who had overtaken Marion as she was leaving the park. “I was up at the other end, or I’d have put a stop to their capers, but you did just right.” He was shaking with laughter.