“He—he won’t be able to walk, will he?” gasped Agnes.
“Only on a crutch. We can’t do any travelin’ on railroads with him this way. And he can’t walk. How far’s it to Milton?”
“You can get an electric car to town if you follow this woodpath.”
“How far?”
“I’ve been almost an hour and a half walking here from the car.”
“Must be four or five miles then,” murmured Barnabetta.
“Yes.”
“Never can hobble that far—can you, Pop?” asked the circus girl.
“Not yet,” groaned the man. He was taking off his shoe and sock. “Get me some snow, Barnabetta,” he said.
“My, that’s so!” she exclaimed. “We can pack it in snow to take down the swellin’.”