“'Course you are,' says Bradbury. 'I told—Oh!'
“He straightens up, grabs at his vest, and slumps down against the back of the seat.
“'What IS it?' screams the widow. 'Oh, what IS it, Mr. Bradbury?'
“He answers, plucky, but toler'ble faintlike. My heart!' he gasps. 'I—I'm afraid I'm goin' to have one of my attacks. I must get to a doctor quick.'
“'Doctor!' I sings out. 'Great land of love! there ain't a doctor nigher than Denboro, and that's four mile astern.'
“'Never mind,' cries the Bassett woman. 'We must go there, then. Turn around, Jonadab! Turn around at once! Mr. Bradbury—'
“But poor Henry G. was curled up against the cushions and we couldn't get nothin' out of him but groans. And all the time we was sailin' along up the road.
“'Turn around, Jonadab!' orders Henrietta. 'Turn around and go for the doctor!'
“Jonadab's hands was clutched on that wheel, and his face was white as his rubber collar.
“'Jerushy!' he groans desperate, 'I—I don't know HOW to turn around.'