“And it has nearly killed me to stay away,” answered the young man, honestly, “but I could not face her; I was too utterly miserable, and yet, as I said just now, I would do the same thing over again under the same circumstances.” “If you do, you will lose our friendship forever,” said Marion, solemnly. “Don’t do wrong again, Ralph, from no matter what motive.” As Marion hurried up Broadway, she felt almost happy, for the consciousness of doing right was always her greatest pleasure. She felt sure that Mrs. Haley would forgive him freely; then she breathed a sigh as she again faced the problem of the future. There was no money left, and the rent was due to-morrow, while the date of that terrible mortgage was growing rapidly nearer. As Marion walked along, she hardly raised her eyes from the pavement, but suddenly she became aware that something unusual was happening. A half a block before her she saw a small danger sign standing in the middle of the pavement, and groups of idle loungers stood on the various corners, all gazing up at a very high building. Marion looked up also, and then stared a little. They were raising an enormous safe to the seventh story window. It was the first time she had seen it done, and she looked on with interest. The young girl had walked as near to the danger sign as she dared, when she suddenly saw a sight that thrilled her with horror. A lady, with a little girl, came out of an adjoining building, and the child, seeing something on the sidewalk that attracted its attention, darted like a flash directly under the suspended safe, which weighed six tons at the least calculation. The lady screamed, but seemed powerless to move, while a dozen voices shouted to the child from all directions. Marion’s nerves were so tense that she seemed unconscious for an instant, then an ominous creaking of the ropes brought her to her senses, and as the enormous cable parted, she darted forward like an arrow. CHAPTER XVI. THE CROWNING ACT OF HEROISM. One second more and her act would have been fatal. Marion caught the child and sprang back like a flash. The next instant, with a crash that echoed block after block, the mammoth box of iron struck the walk where the child had stood and actually telescoped its way straight through the pavement into the cellar. There was not a sound for the space of a second, then the frightened bystanders recovered their voices and a cheer went up that was swelled from every direction. A policeman was just in time to catch the child’s mother as she fainted, and at that moment a handsome carriage drove up, with the coachman pale with apprehension. “You had better go home with her, miss, for she has fainted,” said the officer. “I’ll have to send for an ambulance if there is no one to go with her.” “She has only fainted,” said Marion, calmly, “but I’ll go home with her with pleasure, if I can be of any assistance.” Some one had brought a glass of water, and the lady was rapidly reviving.