“That limb came down right in front of me,” was Andy’s answer. “If it had been down before I got to it I could have cleared it somehow.”
Stuffer ran to a nearby brook for water, bringing some in a cone he made of a sheet of writing paper, and inside of five minutes the sufferer felt well enough to tell his story.
“I was coming along, guiding the wheel with one hand and holding the ice-cream with the other,” he explained. “All at once the limb came down right in front of me. I crashed into it and landed on some stones in the bushes and then, I guess, I lost consciousness. That’s all I’ve got to tell.”
“What became of the ice-cream?” asked Stuffer, and despite Andy’s plight the lad who loved to eat gazed around rather anxiously.
“Why, it—it—I don’t know, I’m sure,” stammered Andy. “Isn’t it on the road?”
It was not, nor was it anywhere in that vicinity. The cadets looked at each other suggestively.
“Maybe it was a trick,” said Pepper. “A trick to get the cream away from Andy and spoil our little festival.”
“That’s it!” cried Dale. “For look, there is no tree around here where that limb could come from.”
The others looked around and saw that Dale was right. Only small trees were in that vicinity and none of these had lost a branch.
“If it was a trick, it was a mighty mean one,” was the young major’s comment. “Why, the tumble might have killed Andy!”