“Oh! my arm, my arm,” moaned Adele. “I believe it is broken.”
“Oh, dear, dear, how dreadful,” responded Jessie. “Where is Dapple Gray?”
“I don’t know.”
Jessie climbed the bank and there saw Dapple Gray patiently standing, a broken wheel showing what had happened. The wheel had caught in the track and although both girls were thrown out as the wheel gave way the little pony had not bolted, but stood his ground. Jessie went up to him, and began to unfasten the harness. “It won’t do for you to stand so near the track,” she said. “You were a dear good pony not to run. The cart isn’t on the track, I am glad to say.” She led the pony down the bank to where Adele sat. “We are quite a way from home,” she said. “Shall you be afraid to stay here while I go for some one to take us back?”
“Oh, don’t leave me, don’t leave me,” Adele wept.
“If you could come up a little higher, you could watch me as I go,” said Jessie. “Ezra lives the nearest, and I am going down the track to call him.” Adele, still moaning and crying, allowed herself to be led to a higher spot. “I don’t think there will be any more trains for some time,” Jessie assured her, “and if you stay right here you can watch me going and coming. I will be as quick as I can.”
Adele suffered herself to be left and Jessie set out. Further down the railroad spanned a gully through which ran the brook. The only way to cross it was upon a narrow boardwalk on one side the bridge, this being used by the workmen as a short cut. The longer way was to go down hill and around to a foot-bridge higher up the brook. Jessie hesitated when she reached the path which led down hill. Should she go that way, or should she venture across the railroad bridge? If she did not look down and hold closely to the railing, perhaps it would not be so bad. She decided to try. So she stepped cautiously upon the planks and went on slowly, doing very well till she reached the middle, when incautiously she glanced down at the rushing water below. For one moment she felt sick and faint. Everything swam around. Then she closed her eyes and held tightly to the railing, stepping along slowly, each moment seeming an hour. In a few minutes her heart stopped its rapid beating and her head felt steady, so she opened her eyes and fixed them on the opposite bank, not once turning them from there, and at last she was safely over.
A little beyond was Ezra’s house with its smiling garden and white fence. Although she felt sore and bruised she began to run, forgetting her pain in her anxiety to reach the house. It was about Ezra’s supper time; there would be no trains coming or going at this time of day, and she would be sure to find the old man at home. So she began to call, “Ezra! Ezra!” and presently she saw his gray head over the fence.
He opened the gate and came out to meet her. “Why, little girl!” he exclaimed, “what are you doing on this road? ’Tain’t your way from home. Why, your face is cut and you’re all mussed up. Tumble down?”
“Oh, Ezra! Ezra!” cried Jessie, seizing his hand, “the pony cart upset us over the bank there by the cut, and Adele has hurt her arm. The pony is all right. He is standing just as still, but the cart-wheel is off so we can’t get home, at least I don’t know how to get Adele and the pony home.”