"HE ADVANCED SLOWLY, PAINFULLY, A PITIFUL FIGURE"
It took him a long time to cover the three miles from the mouth of the Teakettle up to the little camp that he had sped so swiftly away from early that morning. It was long past noon when he dragged himself up the steep path, unfastened the door, and stumbled into the shack. After a few minutes' rest on the floor, he managed to light a fire in the stove and put a kettle of water on to boil. He needed tea—tea, hot and strong. That would pull him together for the twelve-mile journey that lay between him and Doctor Nash. But he'd lie down until the water boiled. He pulled off his moccasins and crawled into a bunk, drawing two pairs of heavy blankets over him. He was too tired to think—too tired even to continue his whimpering and cursing. After a minute he dozed off.
David Marsh was awakened shortly by a touch on his injured arm. He yelled with the pain of it even before he opened his eyes. Then he stared, for there stood a young woman named Maggie Leblanc, gazing at him in astonishment. She was a fine-looking young woman in a striking, but rather coarse red and black way. She was roughly dressed, and had an old muzzle-loading gun by her side, and five partridges hanging at her belt. She was the eldest of many children belonging to a worthless couple who lived about two miles from the Marsh farm, in a poor community called French Corner. It was in that same part of the settlement that Dick Goodine's mother lived.
"Hell!" exclaimed Marsh. "Where'd you come from, Maggie?"
"What are you yelling about?" asked the girl. "An' what are you layin' there for, this time o' day?"
"I'm hurt," returned David. "My arm is broke, I guess." Then he told her all about his morning's misfortune.
"And Dick Goodine was here, was he!" cried the girl. "He helped you load the canoe, did he! And then your pole broke! Are you good friends with Dick Goodine?"
David looked at her eagerly. "Not particular," he answered. "What are you drivin' at?"
"He's after your girl, ain't he?" she asked, her black eyes glistening.
"Look here, what are you drivin' at, Maggie?"
She came close to the edge of the bunk. "Maybe he knows what made the pole break! I've heard o' that trick before. He put it in the canoe for you, didn't he?"
"Yes!" cried the young man furiously. "Yes, he did. Damn him!—if he played that dirty trick on me."
"You lay quiet," said Maggie Leblanc. "I'll cook you a bite o' dinner, an' then I'll light out for Doctor Nash. You ain't fit to travel another step."