"In the orchard."
Almost before the words had passed his lips, Jean pushed by him and was flying toward the orchard. Farr stopped a moment, to tell Willie to run up to the house and have them send down a couple of pillows to the orchard and to dispatch a man on horseback for the doctor; then he started in pursuit of Jean. He quickly overtook her, and they sped across the intervening space in silence. As they entered the orchard Larry's heartbreaking sobs indicated the scene of the accident, and in another instant Jean had fallen on her knees beside her little sister. The child's face was drawn, and the wide, distended eyes were strangely, unnaturally bright.
"Gladys, precious, where does it hurt you?" But a moan was her only answer.
"Oh, Mr. Farr, what can I do? How do you suppose she is hurt?"
Farr bent tenderly over little Gladys, and laid his hand lightly on her arm. A wail of pain escaped from the child's white lips, and she again lost consciousness.
Everything grew black to Jean and she swayed a little, leaning against the trunk of the tree for support. Farr's voice sounded very indistinct and strange to her.
"Come, Miss Jean, you must not faint. Do you hear me? Now, take a mouthful of this," holding out his flask to her.
Jean obeyed him unresistingly, and rallied at once, the color coming back into her face.
"Gladys has broken her arm," he went on, in a quiet, even voice that somehow helped to steady her. "There, that is right. Now you look like yourself again."
"Never mind me," she returned resolutely, straightening herself. "Is there nothing we can do for Gladys?"