"Bam-by say stop! Say can't go no furder. Wagon too moch shake. So we lay him on the ground in his blankets. We wait a while. T'ink maybe get better. Afternoon spell no better. He say no goin' get better. Say to me go get Sam. Ot'er boy Jack stay by him. So I come. Sleep las' night at the crossing."
The story was detailed and convincing, and Sam's suspicions were partly lulled.
"You and the boy take my team," said Ed gravely. "Leave the black horse here to rest up."
A few minutes later they were on the way.
St. Paul had made an appointment with Sollers to come and get them in his canoe, and the trader was waiting when they got there. They swam the horses across. On the way over Sam discussed the case with Sollers. The trader, in addition to everything else, was often obliged to be a doctor.
"Sounds like general collapse," he suggested. "He's over seventy. That's the way they go at last. Under a bush beside the trail."
"I wish you'd come with us," said Sam.
"I'll follow as soon as I can catch a horse."
Sam swung himself on his horse and clapped heels to his ribs. St. Paul lingered to tighten girths. Looking over his shoulder, Sam saw him in talk with Sollers. He had an impression that both turned their heads as he looked around.
When the boy overtook him, he demanded to know what they had been talking about.