“Where did you say they were?” asked Ezra.
“On the other side of the gully, there by the cut.”
“You didn’t come over the railroad bridge?”
“Yes, it was the shortest way,” said Jessie simply.
Ezra uttered an exclamation. “You poor little tot, what would your mother say? Suppose you had slipped under the hand-rail and had fallen into the water?”
“I shut my eyes when I got dizzy.”
“Humph! Well, you don’t go back, that’s all. Come right in here and let my daughter straighten you out, wash off that poor little battered up face. Mark and I will go get the pony and the little girl. What do ye say her name is?”
“Adele. Adele Hallett.”
Ezra nodded. “Belongs to the yellow house. What ye been doing driving off in that direction by yourselves, is what I want to know.”
Jessie was silent. She did not like to blame Adele, though she knew it was entirely her fault. “I told Adele I’d hurry back,” she said.