“Let her smell of the ammonia again.”
“No, thank you, Marie. It’s too strong. The salts are better,” spoke Natalie protestingly. She was sitting up on a cot in the tent, while the boys clustered at the flap outside, and the girls and Mrs. Bonnell gathered around her. The first aid work had ended successfully when Natalie opened her eyes after her swoon.
“I don’t understand how I fainted,” she said feebly. “I never did such a thing before.”
“It was the pain,” said Mabel. “Blake carried you in splendidly, though.”
“Oh, did he carry me?” and a dull red suffused the olive-like tint of Natalie’s cheeks.
“Of course!” exclaimed Mrs. Bonnell. “Why not? It was the most sensible thing to do under the circumstances. How is the ankle?”
“It pains considerably.”
“We must try hot and cold compresses. Marie, put the kettle on the oil stove at once. Boys, you clear out of here. We can look after her now—much obliged to you though. You might bring a couple of pails of water, if you don’t mind, before you go.”
“Here’s your hat—what’s your hurry,” murmured Phil half sarcastically.
“After all we did—to be thrown out this way!” wailed Jack.