cry from Betty, and turned to find that she had disappeared.
"The lady fell down that hole!" shouted a man, hurrying across the street. "There go the barrels! I told Zinker he ought to have braced that dirt!"
Bob, still not understanding, saw four large barrels that had stood on the sidewalk slowly topple over the side of an excavation and roll out of sight.
"She went in, too," cried the man, scrambling over the edge. "Are you hurt, lady?" he called.
"Betty!" shouted Bob. "Betty, are you hurt?" he took a flying leap to the edge of the hole, and, having miscalculated the distance, slid over after the barrels.
Over and over he rolled, bringing up breathless against something soft.
"I knew you'd come to get me," giggled Betty, "but you needn't have hurried. Are there any more barrels coming?"
Bob was immensely relieved to find that she was unhurt. The barrels had luckily been empty and had rolled over and into her harmlessly.
"Well, looks like you're all right," grinned the Chassada citizen who had followed Bob more leisurely. "Let me help you up this grade. There now, you're fine and dandy, barring a little dirt that will wash off. George Zinker excavated
