Thus duly authorized and permitted, Isaac and Alice went off together to the scene of his solitary task, which they reached in about half an hour. The Prentice place was a little farm of two or three acres, in the centre of which stood the cottage. It was not a very large structure, but Isaac’s practised eye at once perceived that his employer had set him a task sufficient to try the strength of three men. Old man Prentice was of the same opinion, and very emphatically expressed his dissatisfaction that Jones had sent only one man to do the work of three. Nothing daunted, however, Isaac at once set about the performance of his task. The first thing to do was to lift the structure, which was done by means of appliances called jacks. Isaac inserted one of the jacks under each of the four corners of the house and screwed it up until that part of the building was elevated to the desired height. In the mean while Alice stood near her favorite and watched him at his arduous task, chatting and prattling all the while with the careless innocence of childhood; and Isaac, though engrossed in his labor, did not fail to answer her childish queries, and kept his little friend interested and amused. All went well until Isaac came to the fourth and last corner and proceeded to jack it up as he had done the others. Here, by some miscalculation, he raised the corner a foot or so more than was necessary. At once the frame structure began to careen. Isaac instantly perceived that the building would certainly topple to the ground, and a pang of agony shot through his heart as he thought of the loss which his mistake, unaccountable even to himself, would cause. His next thought was to save himself from harm; but, as he turned to flee from under the falling structure, what horrible sight met his eyes! Little Alice, petrified apparently by fright, was standing motionless under the tottering building. A sickening picture flashed up instantly before his mental retina of her little body lying crushed and bleeding under the ruins of the building, its life crushed out by the overwhelming weight. How could he save her? She was too far away for him to seize her and flee with her to safety, neither would it avail aught to shout to her to flee. Before she could have recovered control of her faculties and impelled her limbs to motion, the blow would have fallen and all would be over. There was but one way to save Alice, and, though Isaac knew it meant almost certain death for himself, he instantly determined to do it. Placing his powerful shoulders under the tilting woodwork, he shouted in a great and terrible voice to Alice to run—run for her life. For a minute or so he stood, like fabled Atlas upholding the world, supporting with his tremendous strength the falling structure, while his muscles stood out like whipcords and the sweat of agony poured all over his body. In that minute Alice recovered herself and toddled out of harm’s way.