Assured that his limbs were sound, the boy began to walk slowly, and as the pricking numbness vanished, he increased his pace, shouting all the while for his brother.
Alarmed at the failure to be answered, he suddenly paused.
“I couldn’t have thrown those two sticks toward him!” he gasped, then dashed frantically forward.
Search, however, failed to show the sign of any other upheaval.
“Maybe he’s gone to camp for stuff for me,” Ted said to himself, and quickly hastened to the hut, where the absence of Pat suggested to him his brother’s actions.
“Poor old Phil! He thinks he’s done for me,” he exclaimed, and quickly saddling Daisy, he leaped onto her back and headed her toward the Jay farm, reasoning that his brother would go there for aid.
Eager to relieve the anguish he knew Phil would feel, Ted rode hard and was within a few feet of the clearing when a voice hailed him.
“Well, I swan! How’d you git here? Thought you was—” And then the aged farmer stopped abruptly, realizing his words were untimely.
But Ted seemed not to have heard them.
“Where’s Phil?” he demanded.