"Arm broke, I think," he growled, and forthwith burst out into a torrent of curses.
"Does it—hurt—so much?" I panted.
"Ah! but it—ain't that," he panted back; "it's me—a-lettin' of you—work off—a mouldy—old trick on me—like—that there—"
"It was my only chance," said I, sitting down beside him to regain my wind.
"To think," he growled, "o' me bein' took in by a—"
"But you are a great runner!" said I.
"A great fool, you mean, to be took in by a—"
"You have a long walk back, and your arm will be painful—"
"And serve me right for bein' took in by—"
"If you will lend me your neckerchief, I think I can make your arm more comfortable," said I. He ceased cursing to stare at me, slowly and awkwardly unwound the article in question, and passed it to me. Thereupon, having located the fracture, I contrived a rough splint with a piece of wood lying near; which done, he thanked me, in a burst of profanity, and rose.