"Very well, I believe. She is in Denver, you know."
When he had gone back to the boy, Isabelle said to Conny:—
"We used to know the Falkners very well. There is a story! … Strange he should be here. But I heard he was in the East somewhere."
Conny did not seem interested in Rob Falkner and his turning up at this juncture. She sat with a solemn face, wondering how she could get back to the city. Finally she resolved to telephone Cairy.
* * * * *
Falkner went over to the unconscious boy, and taking his hand, counted the pulse. "It's all right so far," he said to the mother, who did not hear him. After a time she looked up, and her low voice dragged hoarsely,—"You mustn't wait. The doctor will be here soon, and we can do everything now."
"I will wait until the doctor comes," Falkner replied gently, and stepped to the window to watch for the motor.
After the local doctor had come and said, "A slight concussion,—nothing serious, I expect," and the boy had revived somewhat, Conny departed alone in the motor, Isabelle having decided to stay with Margaret over the night. Falkner helped the doctor carry the patient upstairs, and then started to leave. Isabelle waited for him at the door.
"Mrs. Pole wishes me to thank you for all your kindness."
"I shall look in to-morrow morning," he replied hurriedly. "I would stay now until the boy's father came; but I don't suppose there is anything I can do. I am living at the hotel below, and you can telephone if you want me."