Still she did not understand, and he grabbed her rudely by the arm and lifted her to her feet. But when his hand came in contact with the hard wood of which her arm was made the fellow was filled with surprise. He stooped down and peered into her face, and, seeing it was wax instead of flesh, he gave a yell of fear and jumped from the car, running as if he had seen a ghost. At this the other passengers also yelled and sprang from the car, fearing a collision; and the motorman, knowing something was wrong, followed suit. The wax lady, seeing the others run, jumped from the car last of all, and stepped in front of another car coming at full speed from the opposite direction. She heard cries of fear and of warning on all sides, but before she understood her danger she was knocked down and dragged for half a block. When the car was brought to a stop a policeman reached down and pulled her from under the wheels. Her dress was badly torn and soiled. Her left ear was entirely gone, and the left side of her head was caved in; but she quickly scrambled to her feet and asked for her hat. This a gentleman had already picked up, and when the policeman handed it to her and noticed the great hole in her head and the hollow place it disclosed, the poor fellow trembled so frightfully that his knees actually knocked together. “Why—why, ma’am, you’re killed!” he gasped. “What does it mean to be killed?” asked the wax lady. The policeman shuddered and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. “You’re it!” he answered, with a groan. The crowd that had collected were looking upon the lady wonderingly, and a middle-aged gentleman now exclaimed: “Why, she’s wax!” “Wax!” echoed the policeman. “Certainly. She’s one of those dummies they put in the windows,” declared the middle-aged man. The people who had collected shouted: “You’re right!” “That’s what she is!” “She’s a dummy!” “Are you?” inquired the policeman, sternly. The wax lady did not reply. She began to fear she was getting into trouble, and the staring crowd seemed to embarrass her. Suddenly a bootblack attempted to solve the problem by saying: “You guys is all wrong! Can a dummy talk? Can a dummy walk? Can a dummy live?” “Hush!” murmured the policeman. “Look here!” and he pointed to the hole in the lady’s head. The newsboy looked, turned pale and whistled to keep himself from shivering. A second policeman now arrived, and after a brief conference it was decided to take the strange creature to headquarters. So they called a hurry-up wagon, and the damaged wax lady was helped inside and driven to the police station. There the policeman locked her in a cell and hastened to tell Inspector Mugg their wonderful story. Inspector Mugg had just eaten a poor breakfast, and was not in a pleasant mood; so he roared and stormed at the unlucky policemen, saying they were themselves dummies to bring such a fairy tale to a man of sense. He also hinted that they had been guilty of intemperance.