"Do you hear that noise? I'm goin' to see what it means."
As he went rapidly across the fields without waiting for a reply, the little woman followed him, but her pace was slow because of having the baby in her arms.
The cries continued almost incessantly, and by them Jack was guided to a clump of large trees standing near one end of the pond within a few yards of the spot where Louis had been set adrift on the raft.
It was not necessary to search long for the sufferer.
Lying on the ground, held firmly down by a huge limb of a tree which had fallen across his breast in such a manner that he could not use his arms, was Bill Dean.
His face was pale, whether from pain or fear Jack had no means of ascertaining, for the boy did not wait to be questioned, but cried piteously,—
"O Hunchie, help me outer this scrape an' I won't ever play tricks on you agin!"
This promise was not necessary to enlist Jack's sympathy.
It was a boy in agony and not an enemy he saw before him; the only question in his mind was how the rescue could be effected.
"Lay still, an' I'll do the best I can; but it may hurt a little more when I try to lift the limb."