He tried to get up. He rose to his knees, but pitched forward again. Carolyn May was not afraid of him now—only troubled.
“I’ll take you to Miss Amanda,” cried the little girl, pulling at his coat again. “She’s a nurse, and she’ll know just what to do for you. Come, Prince and I will take you.”
The dog stood by whining, acting as though he knew just what the trouble was and was anxious to help. The man struggled up into a kneeling posture.
“My top-hamper ain’t jest right,” he murmured again. “That was a crack! Blood! I reckon I’m some hurt, miss.”
“Well, I should say you were hurt!” Carolyn May responded briskly. “But I know Miss Mandy can fix you up. Let’s go there—now! It’s awfully cold standing here.”
“Belike I can’t get there,” mumbled the man, still on his knees.
“Oh, you must! It’s not far. You were coming towards The Corners, weren’t you?”
“I was bound out o’ town; yes, miss,” the man replied.
“Miss Amanda’s is the last house you passed, then. It isn’t far,” repeated Carolyn May.
“I—I don’t believe I kin make it, matey,” groaned the man, evidently not quite clear in his mind whom he was addressing. He weaved to and fro as he knelt, his eyes half-closed, muttering and groaning to himself.