"Are ye much hurt, Mr. Edward?" asked the woman. "Oh yer mother'll never
forgive me fur lettin' ye risk yer life that away!"
"I don't think the injury is serious, Mrs. Smith, at least I hope not; and
you were not to blame," he answered, "so make yourself easy. Now, Pete and
Jim, give me an arm, each of you."
They helped him into the wagon and laid him down, putting the scorched
horse blanket under his head for a pillow.
"Now drive a little carefully, Pete," he said, suppressing a groan, "and
look out for the ruts, I'd rather not be jolted.
"And you, Sim, ride on ahead and lead Prince. I want you to get in before
us, ask for my father and tell him I've had an accident; am not seriously
hurt, but want my mother prepared. She must not be alarmed by seeing me
brought in unexpectedly, in this state."
His orders were obeyed, Jim reached Ion some ten minutes ahead of the
wagon and gave due warning of its approach. He met his master in the
avenue and told his story in a tolerably straightforward manner.
"Where is Mr. Edward now?" asked Mr. Travilla.
"De wagon's jes down de road dar a piece, sah; be here in 'bout five
minutes, sah.
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