A little quiver seemed to run along the lips, deepening into a shudder, and then a groan which they were thankful to hear.
"No, he isn't dead. Thank God for that!"
Fortunately Dr. Meade was at home, and he lost no time in coming over immediately.
Mr. Morris and the doctor stripped off Hal's clothes, and began to examine the limbs. The arms were all right,—ankles, knees, ah, what was this!
Hal opened his eyes, and uttered an excruciating cry.
Granny rocked herself to and fro, her poor old brain wild with apprehension, for his pain was hers.
"The trouble's here,—in the thigh. Not a break, I hope; but it's bad enough!"
Bad enough they found it,—a severe and complicated fracture, and perhaps internal injuries.
"Do your best, doctor," said Mr. Morris. "I'm going to foot this bill; and if any thing'll save him"—