“You went in so quick,” observed Flossie, “it was as if the sawhorse kicked you in, wasn’t it, Freddie?”
“Yes, it was,” he said, and then he laughed. So did Bert and Nan. A moment later, however, a look of pain passed over Freddie’s face and he put one hand down on his left shin.
“What’s the matter?” Nan asked.
“My leg hurts!”
“Maybe it’s broken,” suggested Flossie.
“How could I walk if my leg was broken?” the little boy demanded, and he strutted about, though he limped a little.
“Let me look,” suggested Bert, and when he had pulled down Freddie’s stocking they all saw that the shin had been skinned and was bleeding slightly. It had been scraped on the edge of the drain pipe.
“Oh, look!” cried Flossie. “He’s got the nose bleed on his leg!”
Freddie had been going to cry at the sight of the blood. But when Flossie said this in such a funny way he laughed, and so did Bert and Nan.
“We’d better take him in the house and fix his leg,” said Bert to his twin.