"Yes, it's Jimmy. I don't know yet how much he is hurt. Mr. Crawson is just behind. He'll hold the horse's head while you lift him out, my arm is rather cramped."
"Mother," screamed Mr. Dodge scarcely knowing what he did.
Mrs. Dodge came rushing down the steps, her face frightfully pale, her arms extended toward her poor erring boy.
"Is he drowned?" The words forced themselves through her white lips.
"When we get him on the bed, I'll explain," said Mr. Crawson his face working with emotion.
"Now I'll tell the truth," added the man, "though it carries my own boy to prison for life."
The Doctor was bending over the child with his ear to the silent chest, while Mrs. Dodge forcibly suppressing her groans, held her boy's limp hand, kissing it again and again.
"Daniel and he," pointing to the bed, "were in my boat. They had a quarrel about some lilies they had gathered. Daniel has a hot temper, and he struck Jimmy on the head with his oar. If he's killed him, why—"
He could say no more, his face was convulsed with emotion, he went quickly out of the house.
The Doctor after some farther examination ordered an application of ice to the head, and insisted upon perfect quiet. He left powders to be administered once in two or three hours and went away, promising to return soon.