The cab was already full of passengers, but he had found a place on the
frame above the wheels when he saw the girl in the light dress running,
flushed and eager, along the line. Leaning down as far as possible, he
held out his hand to her.

"Get hold, if you want to come," he called. "There's a step yonder."

She seized his hand and smiled at him when he drew her up beside him.

"Thanks," she said. "I was nearly too late."

"Perhaps we had better make for the pilot, where there'll be more
room," George suggested, as two more passengers scrambled up.

They crept forward, holding on by the guard-rail, while the great
engine began to rock as it gathered speed. The girl, however, was
fearless, and at length they reached the front, and stood beneath the
big head-lamp with the triangular frame of the pilot running down to
the rails at their feet. The ledge along the top of it was narrow, and
when his companion sat down George felt concerned about her safety.
Her hat had blown back, setting free tresses of glossy hair; her light
skirt fluttered against the sooty pilot.

"You'll have to allow me," he said, tucking the thin fabric beneath her
and passing an arm around her waist.

He thought she bore it well, for her manner was free from prudish alarm
or coquettish submission. With sound sense, she had calmly acquiesced
in the situation; but George found the latter pleasant. His companion
was pretty, the swift motion had brought a fine warmth into her cheeks,