Page:Restless Earth.djvu/97

There were sounds of furious activity overhead, and the shouting grew ever more distinct as the self-appointed ganger directed the operations of the rescuers. The thudding of thrown fragments of concrete, the ring of axes, the splintering of timber, the clanging of roofing-iron, the rending of dress-fabrics, sounded continuously. Dust fell in a never-ending stream.

Presently it grew lighter, and the constable was able to see the little lost woman distinctly. There was no beauty in the face now. It was black with dust and streaked with blood—it was hideous, ghastly.

The constable swore a little louder and leaned over her to blow some of the dust away. The action revealed the extent of the facial injuries. He shuddered, and his heart was filled with a great pity.

“Easy, up there!” he snarled, as the dust-stream widened and re-covered the little woman’s disfigurgment.

He turned in the cramped space in search of something with which to cover her face. He grasped a length of fabric which hung from the counter upon which it was fastened by the fallen girder. He twisted his face upwards as he pulled cautiously, and looked into the dead eyes of the blonde girl.

He did not start. He was becoming inured to horrors. He desisted from his effort to secure the fabric, crossed himself reverently, and, leaning above the living woman, offered his body for her shelter. He was just in time, for a heavy fragment of concrete fell upon his shoulder and crushed him down.

“Carefully!” he yelled angrily. “You’re nearly through.”

He tried to rise, but his left arm was broken. He bared his teeth in a snarl of pain, and muttered blasphemously. With his sound arm he eased his considerable weight from the unconscious woman beneath him, but he kept his body interposed