I asked for water, for my thirst was intense, and after drinking deep from the dripping dipper and washing off the worst of the blood and dirt, I followed the farmer to the main road, where he pointed out a short cut to the railroad.
There I found Dan rushing frantically about, for having found the wheel with the hatchet gone, he felt sure I had been kidnapped.
It seems that he had gone to the house, found the farmer chasing the calf, secured the water, then thinking it would be difficult to carry the kettle through the fences, tried another route and got on the wrong road. Before he could find the right path and return, I was in the slough.
We slept that night in a tumble-down shed—or rather, Dan did. Each time I dropped to sleep, I could feel myself sinking in the slough, and would wake up with a start.
Next day we rode a good deal and covered a long stretch of territory. The country was flat and uninteresting and my strained muscles occupied most of my attention as I tried to confine the rebellious wheel to the smoother stretches.
At noon we pitched camp near the railroad track and had the meal well under way when a passenger train pulled out of a station a mile or two ahead and thundered toward us.
“Look,” exclaimed Dan. “What’s the matter there? The train is going to stop.”
Sure enough, it was losing speed. People were thrusting their heads from windows while the fireman was looking back at a group of men on the blind end of the baggage car. Just as it ranged alongside us, a small figure catapulted from the platform and rolled almost to our feet. The train gathered way and sped on.
I rushed forward and fell on my knees beside a grimy, tattered boy of some twelve years, who was clutching his fiery red head in both hands and cursing like a pirate. Blood was spurting from a deep jagged gash in his left wrist, which he had struck against the projecting fragment of a broken bottle in his descent. I seized his arm and applied pressure to control the hemorrhage. He fixed me with an uncomprehending glare. Then his eyes fell on his dripping arm.
“Oh, Lord,” he gasped, “oh, Lord, I’m bleedin’ to death—I’m goin’ to die. Oh, Ma, Ma.”