He said this with a pathos that found the girl's
heart. What a pitiful, lonely life, a boy's without
even the memory of a mother or father! The mother
instinct rose in a resistless flood of pity. Her eyes
grew suddenly dim.

"Well," he said briskly, "now for the dainty job!
I've got to jump my way through that Coney Island
bunch. You see my low speed's a racing pace for an
everyday car. All I can do in a crowd is to jump from
one crossing to the next and cut her power off every
time. You can bet I'll make a guy or two jump with
me----"

"You won't hurt anyone?" she pleaded.

"Lord, no! I wouldn't dare to put her
through that mob in the afternoon. I'd kill a
regiment of 'em. But it's early--just the shank of the
morning. There's nobody down here yet."

The car suddenly leaped into the Avenue that runs
through the heart of Coney Island, the deep-throated
horn screaming its warning. The crowd scattered like
sheep before a lion.

The girl laughed in spite of her effort at self-
control.

"Watch 'em hump!" Jim grunted.