"THERE'S GOOD STUFF IN THAT GIRL"
Again that cry--that weak, bubbling wail from out the darkness of the
sewer basin. Something swirled past Hester's strained vision in the
dervish dance of the debris floating in the murky water. It was a tiny
hand, stretched forth from a skimpy blue-cloth sleeve.
It was Johnny Doyle's hand; but the child's body--the rest of it--was
under water!
The water was not more than six feet below the surface of the ground;
but deep, deep down was the entrance of the big drain that joined the
main sewer taking the street water and sewerage from the whole Hill
section. Johnny was being sucked down into that drain.
The girl, her mind keenly alert to all this, shrieked unintelligible
cries for help--unintelligible to herself, even. She could not have
told afterward a word she said, or what manner of help she demanded;
but she knew the boy was drowning _and that she could swim_!
With her clothing to hold her up a bit Hester believed she could swim
or keep afloat even in that swirling eddy. The appealing little hand
had no more than waved blindly once, than Hester gathered her rather
full skirts about her and jumped, feet first, into the sewer-basin.
That was no pleasant plunge, for, despite her skirts, Hester went down
over her head. But her hands, thrashing about in the water, caught the
baby's dress. She came up with Johnny in her arms, and when she had
shaken the water from her eyes so that she could see, above was the
brown face of one of the street cleaners. He was lowering a bucket on
a rope, and yelling to her.
What he said Hester did not know; but she saw her chance, and placed
little Johnny--now a limp, pale rag of a boy--in the bucket, and the man
drew him up with a yell of satisfaction.
Hester was not frightened for herself. She felt the tug of the eddy at
her feet; but she trod water and kept herself well above the surface
until the man dropped the bucket down again. Then she saw the wild
eyes and pallid, frightened face of Rufus at the opening, too; and a
third anxious countenance. She knew that this belonged to Nellie
Agnew's father.
"Hang on, child!" exclaimed the physician, heartily. "We'll have you
out in a jiffy."
Hester clung to the rope and was glad to be dragged out of the filthy
basin. She sat on the ground, almost breathless, for a moment. Rufe,
with a wild cry, had sprung to Johnny. But the doctor put the
half-witted lad aside and examined the child.
"Bless him! he isn't hurt a mite," declared Dr. Agnew, cheerfully.
"Run, get a taxi, Rufe! Quick, now! I'll take you and Johnny, and Miss
Hester, too, home in it."
Everybody was used to obeying the good doctor's commands, and Rufus
Doyle ran as he was told. Hester was on her feet when the cab
returned, and Dr. Agnew was holding the bedraggled and still
unconscious Johnny in his arms.
"We'll take you home first, Hester," said Dr. Agnew. "You live
nearest."
"No, no!" exclaimed Hester. "Go by the way of Mrs. Doyle's house. The
baby ought to be 'tended to first."
"Why, that's so," admitted the physician, and he looked at her a
little curiously.
Hester whisked into the cab and hid herself from the curious gaze of
the few passers-by who had gathered when the trouble was all over. The
taxi bore them all swiftly to the Doyles' humble domicile. It was on a
street in which electric cabs were not commonly driven, and Rufe was
mighty proud when he descended first into a throng of the idle
children and women of the neighborhood.
Of course, the usual officious neighbor, after one glance at Johnny's
wet figure, had to rush into the house and proclaim that the boy had
been drowned in the lake. But the doctor was right on her heels and
showed Mrs. Doyle in a few moments that Johnny was all right.
With a hot drink, and warm blankets for a few hours, and a good sleep,
the child would be as good as new. But when the doctor came out of the
house he was surprised to find the cab still in waiting and Hester
inside.
"Why didn't you go home at once and change your clothing?" demanded
Dr. Agnew, sharply, as he hopped into the taxi again.
"Is Johnny all right?" asked Hester.
"Of course he is."
"Then I'll go home," sighed Hester. "Oh, I sha'n't get cold, Doctor.
I'm no namby-pamby girl--I hope! And I was afraid the little beggar
would be in a bad way. He must have swallowed a quantity of water."
"He was frightened more than anything else," declared Dr. Agnew,
aloud. But to himself he was thinking: "There's good stuff in that
girl, after all."
For he, too, had heard the whispers that had begun to go the rounds of
the Hill, and knew that Hester Grimes was on trial in the minds of
nearly everybody whom she would meet. Some had already judged and
sentenced her, as well!