“Get out of the way there, will you!” shouted a burly policeman, as he rushed up. “Stand back there and give the doctor a chance. Move on, I say, or I’ll club the heads off’n you!” Marion shrank back a little, but she was the only one. The others swarmed about the ambulance as though the officer had not spoken. In the twinkling of an eye the ambulance swung around and a physician in uniform sprang to the curbing. The crowd fell back a little when the officer resorted to vigorous measures, and the next moment Marion caught sight of a woman lying on the sidewalk, with her head actually falling over the curb into the gutter. “Run out the stretcher,” ordered the physician as another officer arrived on the scene. He picked the woman up bodily and laid her on the floor of the ambulance, which was fitted with a mattress and blankets. A break in the crowd enabled her to see clearly. In a second she was staring hard, her breath almost choking her. There was something familiar about the woman’s dress, which was of a plain, dark homespun, so common in the country. The next moment Marion had pressed forward until she obtained a clear view of the poor creature’s face, and then a cry burst from her lips that made the crowd stare at her. “It is Sallie—Sallie Green!” she cried hysterically. The ambulance bell clanged and there was a swaying of the crowd. Before she could collect her senses the ambulance dashed off, carrying Silas Johnson’s wretched wife to a cot in Bellevue Hospital. Sallie had kept her word—she had “run away to the big city.” CHAPTER IX. MARION MEETS A MISSIONARY. Marion made her way down to the dock, feeling almost dazed at what she had seen. She was endeavoring to decide what was her duty in the matter. She heard the clang of the bell as the ambulance dashed into Bellevue Hospital yard, but she was too late to see more, for the great gate closed as she reached it. She took her permit from her pocket and glanced at it eagerly. It was dated, so she knew she must use it that day, and, furthermore, it was now five minutes of eleven, so there was no time to be spent in helping Sallie. “They’ll take good care of her, I am sure,” she whispered to herself, “and, anyway, I can write to Silas as soon as I get up there. He can’t be so bad but what he’ll come and get her.” In less than five minutes she was on the dock, and here for a moment Marion almost forgot poor Sallie. There were several policemen standing around, as if waiting for something, and on the deck of the _Thomas Brennan_, the ferryboat that was to convey her to Blackwell’s Island, and which was moored to the dock, she could see several more men in blue uniforms waiting. As soon as Marion passed the dock entrance an officer came up to her. Marion handed him her permit and he turned and nodded to the captain. “Go right on deck, miss. The prisoners will stay down below,” he said, kindly, as he led Marion over and helped her down the gangplank.