"Dear Lord—no!" cried Uncle Joe West, whose gun had exploded.
Dolly dropped her hands. She reached out, then, for something to grasp.
And she plainted:
"I ithn't dead, mother. I juth'—I juth' can't thee."
She extended her red hands.
"They're all wet!" she complained.
By this time the mother had the little girl gathered close in her arms.
She moaned:
"Doctor Luke—quick!"