Shirley dashed in the direction from which it had come.
Reaching the stable she paused for a moment, listening. Nothing but silence. But as she was about to move on again, a low groan caught her ear. Again she listened. It came from Gabriel’s stall.
Shirley hastened forward.
From Gabriel’s stall protruded Gabriel’s black head. His eyes flamed angrily and he uttered snorts of rage.
“What’s the matter, Gabriel?” asked Shirley, and ran forward.
Gabriel gave a low whinny, and the fire left his eyes. Shirley opened the stall door and stepped inside. And she drew back with a cry of fear.
In the far corner of the stall lay a human form, twisted and out of shape. Shirley ran quickly toward it, and started back with a cry:
“Uncle Frank!”
There was no reply from the silent form. Stooping hastily, Shirley laid hold of the shoulders and dragged the body from the stall, closing the door behind her. Then she bent over the still figure.
The face was caked with blood, and the arms and limbs hung limp. A moment and Uncle Frank’s eyes opened and he gave vent to a feeble groan.