The young girl had walked as near to the danger sign as she dared, when she suddenly saw a sight that thrilled her with horror.
A lady, with a little girl, came out of an adjoining building, and the child, seeing something on the sidewalk that attracted its attention, darted like a flash directly under the suspended safe, which weighed six tons at the least calculation.
The lady screamed, but seemed powerless to move, while a dozen voices shouted to the child from all directions. Marion’s nerves were so tense that she seemed unconscious for an instant, then an ominous creaking of the ropes brought her to her senses, and as the enormous cable parted, she darted forward like an arrow.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE CROWNING ACT OF HEROISM.
One second more and her act would have been fatal.
Marion caught the child and sprang back like a flash. The next instant, with a crash that echoed block after block, the mammoth box of iron struck the walk where the child had stood and actually telescoped its way straight through the pavement into the cellar.
There was not a sound for the space of a second, then the frightened bystanders recovered their voices and a cheer went up that was swelled from every direction. A policeman was just in time to catch the child’s mother as she fainted, and at that moment a handsome carriage drove up, with the coachman pale with apprehension.
“You had better go home with her, miss, for she has fainted,” said the officer. “I’ll have to send for an ambulance if there is no one to go with her.”
“She has only fainted,” said Marion, calmly, “but I’ll go home with her with pleasure, if I can be of any assistance.”