"They never could drive in this rough place," Dorothy sighed. "Listen!
There is Joe. Call him. He will help us."
In a moment Joe Dale was beside his sister.
"Why, a man must carry her, of course," he declared promptly, "I just met Ralph Willoby—"
A shrill whistle from Joe, followed by his calling loudly the young man's name, soon brought Ralph to the scene.
"Oh, I am so glad it is you!" said Dorothy. "You will know just what to do, and we—don't want—a crowd."
By this time Sarah showed signs of fainting; her breath came in gasps and her face was very white.
"Run over to the spring Joe, and fetch a cup of water," Ralph commanded. "Now, Miss Ford, you must put your head down flat on the grass—this way. There, that's it. Now try to straighten out so that you can breathe better."
But every move that the suffering girl tried to make caused her such pain that Dorothy fell upon her knees and tried to fan a breath into her white face, to prevent her, if possible, from becoming unconscious.
"Here's Joe, with the water," exclaimed Tavia, running to meet the boy, and hurrying back with the cool liquid.
Ralph pressed the drink to Sarah's lips, while Dorothy waited to bathe the pale face with what water might remain in the cup.