Williams flung down the reins and jumped from the wagon to the ground. Anger and fear had sadly frayed his temper. “Try what you d— please,” he growled, and walked ahead, leaving Cato to coax the mules to a fresh effort that brought the wagon at last to the spot that Jack had selected.
As the wagon stopped, Jack went to the back. “Come out, youngster,” he ordered, kindly. “It’ll do you good to stand and move about a little.” He held out his arms as he spoke.
But the girl shrank back. “I can get out alone,” she faltered.
Jack grinned. “All right!” he agreed, cheerfully. “Try it if you like. I’ll catch you if you fall.” He stood back and waited.
Cautiously the girl clambered out and down. She reached the ground safely, but as her weight came upon her wounded leg, she tottered and would have fallen if Jack had not caught her and held her up, while the swimming world spun round.
Her pride vanished and she clung to him desperately, feeling again the curious sense of safety that she had felt when he had held her a few hours before. She clung fast until the rush of blood to her temples quieted; then, as she straightened herself, she heard Jack’s voice.
“Bravo!” he cried. “You’re doing fine. Just a step or two—a step or two. There! That’s it.” She felt herself lowered to a seat upon a great limestone boulder that protruded from the mold close against a big tree. “How does your wound feel now?”
“Good!” The girl stretched her leg cautiously.
“I guess I’d better not disturb the dressings tonight,” went on the boy, doubtfully. “I did the best I could this morning, and it would probably do more harm than good to fool with them. What do you think.”
“Wound does very well.” Not for worlds would Alagwa have submitted it to his inspection.