Hiram was about to turn into one of these side streets on his way
back to Mrs. Atterson's. Turning the corner was a handsome span
of horses attached to a comfortable but mud-bespattered carriage.
It was plainly from the country.

The light at the corner of the street shone brightly into the
carriage. Hiram saw a well-built man in a gray greatcoat and
slouch hat, holding the reins over the backs of the spirited
horses.

Beside him sat a girl. She could have been no more than twelve
or fourteen--not so old as Sister, by a year or two. But how
different she was from the starved-looking, boarding house
slavey!

She was framed in furs--rich, gray and black furs that muffled
her from top to toe, only leaving her brilliant, dark little face
with its perfect features shining like a jewel in its setting.

She was talking laughingly to the big man beside her, and he was
looking down at her. Perhaps this was why he did not see what
lay just ahead--or perhaps the glare of the street light blinded
him, as it must have the horses, as the equipage turned into the
darker side street.

But Hiram saw their peril. He sprang into the street with a cry
of warning. And he was lucky enough to seize the nigh horse by
the bridle and pull both the high-steppers around.

There was an excavation--an opening for a water-main--in this