“It’s just like Marion!” cried Dollie, laughing.
“It was dreadful risky,” said Miss Allyn, shaking her head.
“It is awful!” cried Dr. Brookes, almost frantic as he thought of it. “Why, the girl will be robbed or killed if she doesn’t stop doing for such common people!”
“You ought to have seen her,” said Bert, who was bristling with admiration. “There was a big crowd all around the woman, who was dancing and yelling, and just as the carriage drove by a policeman charged into the crowd and was going to grab the woman when she jabbed a hat pin into him. Wow! but you ought to have heard him howl! The mob gave him the laugh and that made him madder, and in a jiffy he yanked his club out of his belt and made a lunge at her—and he’d have knocked her silly if it hadn’t been for Marion!”
“What did she do?” asked Dollie, breathlessly.
“Do! Why, she just threw open the carriage door and stood on the step; then her voice rang out like a silver bugle as she cried: ‘Don’t you dare to strike that woman, officer! Shame on you, you brute! I will report your conduct!’”
“And then what happened?” asked Miss Allyn, excitedly.
“Then the ‘cop’ fell back and looked ashamed of himself, and Marion jumped down from the carriage and started for the woman and the crowd made way for her as though she was an empress—and she didn’t look unlike one, either, you bet, for her head was up in the air and her eyes just shot sparks at them! Oh, Marion just knocked them speechless! I tell you she is a dandy!”
“Go on with your story!” said Dr. Brookes, still anxiously. “I want to know exactly what happened after that.”
“Why, Marion got hold of the woman and coaxed her to the carriage and when the woman told her where she lived she ordered the driver to go there and my! how the crowd yelled when they drove off together.”