Wanted--A Match Maker | Page 4

blazing wood fire of her

own room, and of the cup of tea that would be drank in front of it, was
producing almost the first pleasurable prospect of the day to her.
Seemingly the coachman was as eager to be in-doors as his mistress,
for he whipped up the horses, and the carriage was quickly crossing the
plaza and speeding down the avenue. Though the street was crowded
with vehicles and pedestrians, the growing darkness put an end to Miss
Durant's nods of recognition, and she leaned back, once more buried in
her own thoughts.
At Forty-second Street she was sharply recalled from whatever her
mind was dwelling upon by a sudden jar, due to the checking of the
carriage, and simultaneously with it came the sound of crashing of
glass and splintering of wood. So abrupt was the halt that Miss Durant
was pitched forward, and as she put out her hand to save herself from
being thrown into the bottom of the brougham, she caught a moment's
glimpse of a ragged boy close beside her window, and heard, even
above the hurly-burly of the pack of carriages and street-crossers, his
shrill cry,--
"Extry _Woild_'r Joinal. Terrible--"
There the words ended, for the distraught horses shied backwards and
sideways, and the fore wheel, swung outwards by the sharp turn, struck
the little fellow and threw him down. Miss Durant attempted a warning
cry, but it was too late; and even as it rang out, the carriage gave a jolt
and then a jar as it passed over the body. Instantly came a dozen
warning shouts and shrieks and curses, and the horses reared and
plunged wildly, with the new fright of something under their feet.
White with terror, the girl caught at the handle, but she did no more
than throw open the door, for, as if they sprang from the ground, a
crowd of men were pressing about the brougham. All was confusion for
a moment; then the tangle of vehicles seemed to open out and the mob
of people, struggling and gesticulating, fell back before a policeman
while another, aided by some one, caught the heads of the two horses,
just as the footman drew out from under their feet into the cleared space
something which looked like a bundle of rags and newspapers.

Thinking of nothing save that limp little body, Miss Durant sprang out,
and kneeling beside it, lifted the head gently into her lap, and smoothed
back from the pallid face the unkempt hair. "He isn't dead, Wallace?"
she gasped out.
"I don't think he is, Miss Constance, though he looks like he was bad
hurt. An', indeed, Miss Constance, it wasn't Murdock's fault. The coupé
backed right into our pole without--"
"Here," interrupted a man's voice from the circle of spectators, "give
him this;" and some one handed to the girl the cup of a flask half full of
brandy. Dipping her fingers into it, she rubbed them across the mouth
and forehead; then, raising the head with one of her arms, she parted
the lips and poured a few drops between them.
"Now, mum," suggested the policeman. "Just you let go of it, and we'll
lift it to where it can stay till the ambulance gets here."
"Oh, don't," begged Miss Durant. "He shouldn't be moved until--"
"Like as not it'll take ten minutes to get it here, and we can't let the
street stay blocked like this."
"Ten minutes!" exclaimed the girl. "Isn't it possible--We must get help
sooner, or he--" She broke in upon her own words, "Lift him into my
carriage, and I'll take him to the hospital."
"Can't let you, miss," spoke up a police sergeant, who meantime had
forced his way through the crowd. "Your coachman's got to stay and
answer for this."
"He shall, but not now," protested Miss Durant. "I will be responsible
for him. Wallace, give them one of my cards from the case in the
carriage."
[Illustration: "Miss Durant sprang out and lifted the head gently"]
The officer took the bit of pasteboard and looked at it. "That's all right,

miss," he said. "Here, Casey, together now and easy."
The two big men in uniform lifted the urchin as if he were without
weight, and laid him as gently as might be on the seat of the brougham.
This done, the roundsman dropped the small front seat, helped Miss
Durant in, and once she was seated upon it, took his place beside her.
The sergeant closed the door, gave an order to the coachman, and,
wheeling about, the carriage turned up the avenue, followed by the eyes
of the crowd and by a trail of the more curious.
"Better give it another swig, mum," counselled her companion; and the
girl, going on her knees, raised