“Good-bye?” she cried sharply, her eyes widening and the color rushing into her white face. “Good-bye! Why, what do you mean? Who's saying good-bye? Where could Freckles go, when he is hurt like this, save to the hospital? You needn't say good-bye for that. Of course, we will all go with him! You call up the men. We must start right away.”
“It's no use, Angel,” said Freckles. “I'm thinking ivry bone in me breast is smashed. You'll have to be letting me go!”
“I will not,” said the Angel flatly. “It's no use wasting precious time talking about it. You are alive. You are breathing; and no matter how badly your bones are broken, what are great surgeons for but to fix you up and make you well again? You promise me that you'll just grit your teeth and hang on when we hurt you, for we must start with you as quickly as it can be done. I don't know what has been the matter with me. Here's good time wasted already.”
“Oh, Angel!” moaned Freckles, “I can't! You don't know how bad it is. I'll die the minute you are for trying to lift me!”
“Of course you will, if you make up your mind to do it,” said the Angel. “But if you are determined you won't, and set yourself to breathing deep and strong, and hang on to me tight, I can get you out. Really you must, Freckles, no matter how it hurts, for you did this for me, and now I must save you, so you might as well promise.”
She bent over him, trying to smile encouragement with her fear-stiffened lips.
“You will promise, Freckles?”
Big drops of cold sweat ran together on Freckles' temples.
“Angel, darlin' Angel,” he pleaded, taking her hand in his. “You ain't understanding, and I can't for the life of me be telling you, but indade, it's best to be letting me go. This is my chance. Please say good-bye, and let me slip off quick!”
He appealed to McLean.