The child smiled faintly. But as she lifted his arm, he again fainted. They lifted him, and carried him into the house. Then firmly, deftly, as though experienced in such work, Esther pulled and pressed the broken bone into place. The child roused with the pain, but did not cry out again. At last the arm was bandaged, and placed on a cushion.
"You must be very careful of your arm, Wathemah," she said, patting his cheek, "until the broken bone grows together."
Before the child could speak, there was a knock at the door. The children rushed to open it, and there stood Kenneth Hastings.
"I came to see if the cavalcade reached here safely," he said, smiling. "I followed a short distance behind you, until—"
Here his comprehending glance grasped the situation.
"Wathemah hurt?" he asked in quick sympathy, striding to the child's side. "I feared something might happen."
"Old Jim threw 'em," explained three or four eager voices.
Kenneth looked inquiringly at Esther.
"Were you hurt, too?" he asked in a low voice.
"I think not," she said, looking intently at Wathemah.