“Don't! I'm all right,” and Jack tried to get up in order to prove that headers off a bank were mere trifles to him; but at the first movement of the left leg he uttered a sharp cry of pain, and would have fallen if Gus had not caught and gently laid him down.
“What is it, old chap?” asked Frank, kneeling beside him, really alarmed now, the hurts seeming worse than mere bumps, which were common affairs among baseball players, and not worth much notice.
“I lit on my head, but I guess I've broken my leg. Don't frighten mother,” and Jack held fast to Frank's arm as he looked into the anxious face bent over him; for, though the elder tyrannized over the younger, the brothers loved one another dearly.
“Lift his head, Frank, while I tie my handkerchief round to stop the bleeding,” said a quiet voice, as Ed Devlin laid a handful of soft snow on the wound; and Jack's face brightened as he turned to thank the one big boy who never was rough with the small ones.
“Better get him right home,” advised Gus, who stood by looking on, with his little sisters Laura and Lotty clinging to him.
“Take Jill, too, for it's my opinion she has broken her back. She can't stir one bit,” announced Molly Loo, with a droll air of triumph, as if rather pleased than otherwise to have her patient hurt the worse; for Jack's wound was very effective, and Molly had a taste for the tragic.
This cheerful statement was greeted with a wail from Susan and howls from Boo, who had earned that name from the ease with which, on all occasions, he could burst into a dismal roar without shedding a tear, and stop as suddenly as he began.
“Oh, I am so sorry! It was my fault; I shouldn't have let her do it,” said Jack, distressfully.
“It was all my fault; I made him. If I'd broken every bone I've got, it would serve me right. Don't help me, anybody; I'm a wicked thing, and I deserve to lie here and freeze and starve and die!” cried Jill, piling up punishments in her remorseful anguish of mind and body.
“But we want to help you, and we can settle about blame by and by,” whispered Merry with a kiss; for she adored dashing Jill, and never would own that she did wrong.