"And," said the man, "I had just come from the depot with the carriage, and so I drove right up here, thinking maybe you'd want to follow. One can't tell what may have happened."
Mr. Trafton only delayed to go to the kitchen and give a few hasty orders. "You need not tell Mrs. Trafton," he said. "If anything serious has occurred, I will come or send some one to tell her."
Just as he was stepping into the carriage, Dr. Myers passed. "Here, doctor, we may need you. Just go along with us," was the abrupt invitation, which was promptly accepted.
It was a sad and almost silent party that came back two hours later. Very slowly and carefully the driver guided his horses; very tenderly Mr. Trafton supported his suffering boy, and very anxious was the expression of every face. The stranger, who had escaped with a sprain or two and a few bruises, stated that the horse had been very restive all day, but that Henry had managed him remarkably well until, on their return, frightened at a peddler's cart, he sprang down a steep bank, overturning the buggy, landing the gentleman upon the opposite bank, while Henry, holding on stoutly, was dragged some distance over brush and stones. He was insensible when picked up, but he had revived a little before reaching home, though not able to speak.
When Dr. Myers had made an examination of his patient's state, he said, "Mr. Trafton, I should like to have you call in a more experienced surgeon. I do not feel willing to take the responsibility of treating the case without counsel. If you will call Dr. Maxwell, and if his diagnosis agrees with mine, we shall all feel better satisfied."
"Tell me," began the father, and stopped, unable to ask the question.
"I do not think," replied the doctor, "that your son will die; but I tell you frankly that his injuries are very serious."
And the poor man understood then, quite as well as he did a week later when Dr. Maxwell told him, that his boy could never walk again without a crutch.
When gently and tenderly Dr. Myers told Henry the sad truth, he only said, "No matter, I don't think I shall mind so very much." Then seeing the doctor's look of surprise, he added, "I have just found out that God has his own way of answering prayers, and when we don't ask for the right thing, or forget to say, 'Thy will be done,' it seems as though he just took us at our word and gave us what we asked for, but it comes a little differently from the way we expected."
"You don't mean that you think your lying here with your broken bones is an answer to prayer! I'm sure I wouldn't pray any more in that case!" The speaker was Aunt Harriet, a sister of Mr. Trafton, who had come to help care for the sufferer. One might know by the tone in which she spoke that she knew nothing of the power of prayer.