“Jo,” said that lady meekly.
“I’ve only your word for it,” said the doctor, laughing. “Anyhow, Conlan and I have agreed that you’re not going to ride back in this heat. He was going to drive you; but he ran across me, and I’m going past your place in the car. You come home with me, and Conlan will bring your pony over in a day or two. Will that do?”
“Oh, that’s giving Mr. Conlan an awful lot of trouble,” Jo protested. Whereat Tim Conlan uttered a kind of smothered snort, and Dr. Lawrence laughed.
“I think Mr. Conlan will be annoyed if you talk to him about trouble,” he said. “Well, that’s settled. Feel well enough to start now?”
“Oh, yes,” said Jo, giving in. “I would like to get back before Mother and Father get home—Mother’s coming back from Town to-day. And poor old Jean will be awfully anxious. She wanted to come after the bull too, but there was no one to look after Sarah—she’s sick.”
“I thought it was curious to see one of you without the other,” said the doctor. “Be thankful you haven’t got twins, Mrs. Conlan, that you can’t tell apart!”
“I’m thankful I’ve got any children at all this day!” said Mrs. Conlan, with a smothered sob.
The doctor’s swift little car made short work of the miles to Emu Plains, where they found a distraught Jean, on the point of setting out on Punch, in search of her twin.
“I simply couldn’t stand it!” she said. “How did I know if that old beast of a bull hadn’t killed you? I had awful visions of you lying on the road, hurt, in all the heat—I just couldn’t face Father and Mother when I didn’t know where you were. And Sarah’s well enough to be up, so I was coming.”
“Poor old Jean!” said Jo. “I guess you had all the worst of it.”