In mid-stream the
paddle of a river steamer was churning the water into foam, and
up-stream, near the dock, negro roustabouts could be heard singing. But
under the bridge all was silent, and the levee was deserted in both
directions. He strained his eyes to distinguish that vague figure on the
barge from the surrounding shadows. He saw her crawling across the
shifting coal; then he waited to see no more.
Plunging down the bank at full speed, he scrambled out on the barge and
seized her by the arms. The struggle was brief, but fierce. With a cry
of despair, she sank face downward on the coal and burst into
hysterical weeping.
"Don't call a policeman!" she implored wildly. "Don't let 'em take me to
a hospital!"
"I won't. Don't try to talk 'til you get hold of yourself," said Dan.
"But I'm chokin'! I can't breathe! Get the veil off!"
As Dan knelt above her, fumbling with the long veil, he noticed for the
first time that she was young, and that her bare neck between the collar
and the ripple of her black hair was very white and smooth. He bent down
and looked at her with a flash of recognition.
"Birdie!" he cried incredulously, "Birdie Smelts!"
Her heavy white lids fluttered wildly, and she started up in terror.
"Don't be scared!" he urged. "It's Dan Lewis from back home. How did you
ever come to be in this state?"
With a moan of despair she covered her face with her hands.
"I was up there on the bridge," Dan went on, almost apologetically.
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