"Bridge—about to fall?"
"Yes, sir. So he pulled Mr. Ashton across the desk by 'is neck—manhandled 'im awful, and 'e told 'im—"
"What! What! Tell Ashton I'm here—Mr. Leslie! Tell him to come at once—at once! D' you hear?"
As the valet vanished, Genevieve darted to her father, her eyes wide with swift-mounting alarm. "Papa! Didn't you hear him? He said the bridge—it's about to fall!"
"He did! He did!" cried Dolores, catching the alarm. "Oh, and Jimmy's gone out, too!"
"'Jimmy'!" echoed Mrs. Gantry, staring.
The girl ran to the windows in the end of the room, which afforded a full view of the gigantic bridge.
"Hurry! Hurry, papa! Do something!" cried Genevieve. "If the bridge falls—!"
"Nonsense!" argued her father. "There can't be any danger. It's still standing—and all those men remaining out on it. If there was any danger—Must be some mistake of that fool valet."
"Then why are there no men ashore? Why are they all out there?" questioned Genevieve with intuitive logic. "Oh! it's true—I know it's true! He's in danger! And James—both! They're out there—it will fall! He'll be killed! Send some one—tell them to come ashore! I'll go myself!"