Crash! the truck-wheel clashed against the frail cab, and the latter
vehicle was crushed as though made of paper. The driver went out on his
head. Screams of fear issued from the interior of the cab as it went over
in a heap of wreckage and the ladder-truck thundered on.
Nan saw a fat face with bulging eyes set in it appear at the window of
the cab. She was obliged to spring away to escape being caught in the
wreck. But she ran back instantly, for there were more than the owner of
the fat face in the overturned taxi.
With the sputtering of the fat man there sounded, too, a shrill, childish
scream of fear, and a wild yelp of pain--the latter unmistakably from a
canine throat. Amid the wreckage Nan beheld a pair of blue-stockinged
legs encased in iron supports; but the dog wriggled free.
"Hey! Hey!" roared the fat man. "Help us out of this. Never mind that
driver. He ought to have seen that thing coming and got out of the way.
Hey! Help us out, I say."
Nobody seemed to be paying much attention to the fat and angry citizen;
nor would Nan have heeded him had it not been for the appeal of those two
blue-stockinged legs in the iron braces.
The fat man was all tangled up in the robes and in the broken fittings
of the cab. He could do nothing for himself, let alone assist in the
rescue of the owner of the crippled little limbs.
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