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 the head, and administered a second
swallow of the brandy. She did not resume her seat, but kept her arm about
the boy, in an attempt to render his position easier. It was a wizened,
pinched little face she gazed down at, and now the mouth was drawn as if
there was physical suffering, even in the unconsciousness. Neither head
nor hands had apparently ever known soap, but the dirt only gave
picturesqueness, and, indeed, to Miss Durant an added pathos; and the
tears came into her eyes as she noted that under the ragged coat was only
a flimsy cotton shirt, so bereft of buttons that the whole chest was
exposed to the cold which but a little while before the girl, clad in furs