An instant more, and Helen Manning witnessed a scene that thrilled the hearts of every man, woman and child in that great crowd.
As the big racing car, gathering speed at every throb of its powerful motor, swept toward the hill, a small boy, but little more than a toddling baby, escaped from his mother, who, with the excited throng, was crowding against the rope barrier, and before those whose eyes were fixed on the automobile noticed, the child was in the street, fairly in the path of the approaching machine.

A sudden hush fell on the shouting multitude.

Helen, through the field glasses, could see even the child's face, as, laughing gleefully, he looked back when his mother screamed.
Stricken with horror, the young woman could not lower her glasses.
Fascinated, she watched.

The people seemed, for an instant, paralyzed.
Not a soul moved or uttered a sound.

Would the driver of the racing car swerve aside from his course in time?
If he did, would the baby, in sudden fright, dodge in front of the machine?
Then Helen saw the cowboy who had so interested her lean forward in his saddle and strike his spurs deep in the flanks of his already restless horse.