“Help me,” she said, without explanation. “He—he is hurt, I think.”
Justin had his arms round Ben instantly, and began to lift him. The rain was falling in sheets, and both Lucy and Ben were drenched. Ben began to help himself, and climbed unsteadily to his feet, with Justin’s assistance. Only in the intervals between the vivid lightning flashes could Justin see either Ben or Lucy.
“I’m—I’m all right!” said Ben, staggering heavily.
“I’m afraid he was hit by one of the timbers of the dam,” Lucy declared.
To Justin she seemed abnormally brave. She took hold of Ben’s arm and assisted in supporting him.
“We must get him to the house—to Jasper’s,” she urged, tremulously.
“The photograph wagon is right over there,” Justin informed her. “We’ll take him to that. If you’ll lead my horse maybe I can carry him.”
“I don’t need to be carried,” said Ben, stubbornly. “I tell you I’m all right. I slipped and fell—that’s all. Take your hands off of me; I can walk.”
Lucy clung to him, and Justin did not release his hold. He hallooed now to Davison and Fogg. They did not hear him in the roar of the storm, but by the glare of the lightning they saw the little group swaying near the margin of the wild stream and drove back to discover the meaning of the strange sight. They shouted questions of surprise, as they came up. Justin had not attempted to voice his bewilderment.
Lucy became the spokesman of the group.