His mother was bending over him in an agony of anxiety and suspense, while she strove, in various ways, to relieve his sufferings.
"Wallace—Wallace!" she cried; "how did it happen that you were going up in that car at this time of the day?"
"I cannot tell you now—some other time," he returned.
Then turning to the surgeon, who entered at that moment, while he strove to stifle his groans in his anxiety to learn how it fared with the girl whom he had so bravely tried to save, he asked, eagerly.
"How is she?"
"She is not injured; there is not a bone broken that I can discover, and she will do well enough unless the shock to her nerves should throw her into a fever or bring on prostration," the doctor replied.
"Thank Heaven!" murmured the carpenter, and then fainted away again.
A thorough examination of his condition revealed the fact that two ribs had been fractured and his left arm broken in two places, while it was feared that there might be other internal injuries.
All that could be done for him was done at once, and, though weak and exhausted, he was otherwise comparatively comfortable when the surgeon got through with him.
He then turned his attention once more to the fair girl in the other room.