e
her, the girl sighed, very faintly, with an infinite weariness, and
opened her eyes. The man echoed the sigh, but his was of joy, since now
he knew that his strife in the girl's behalf had not been in vain.

Afterward, the rescuer experienced no great difficulty in carrying
out his work to a satisfactory conclusion. Mary revived to clear
consciousness, which was at first inclined toward hysteria, but this
phase yielded soon under the sympathetic ministrations of the man. His
rather low voice was soothing to her tired soul, and his whole air
was at once masterful and gently tender. Moreover, there was an
inexpressible balm to her spirit in the very fact that some one was thus
ministering to her. It was the first time for many dreadful years that
any one had taken thought for her welfare. The effect of it was like a
draught of rarest wine to warm her heart. So, she rested obediently as
he busied himself with her complete restoration, and, when finally she
was able to stand, and to walk with the support of his arm, she went
forward slowly at his side without so much even as a question of
whither.

And, curiously, the man himself shared the gladness that touched
the mood of the girl, for he experienced a sudden pride in his
accomplishment of the night, a pride that delighted a starved part of
his nature. Somewhere in him were the seeds of self-sacrifice, the
seeds of a generous devotion to others. But those seeds had been left
undeveloped in a life that had been lived since early boyhood outside
the pale of respectability. To-night, Joe Garson had performed, perhaps,
his first action with no thought of self at the back of it. He had
risked his life to save that of a stranger. The fact astonished him,
while it pleased him hugely. The sensation was at once novel and
thrilling. Since it was so agreeable, he meant to prolong the glow of
self-satisfaction by continuing to care for this waif of the river. He
must make his rescue complete. It did not occur to him to question his
fitness for the work. His introspection did not reach to a point of
suspecting that he, an habitual criminal, was necessarily of a sort to
be most objectionable as the protector of a young girl. Indeed, had any
one suggested the thought to him, he would have met it with a sneer, to
the effect that a wretch thus tired of life could hardly object to any
one who constituted himself her savior.

In this manner, Joe Garson, the notorious forger, led the dr