"I only wish I'd been here for you to fall upon!" said Sam, with a queer mingling of grief and pleasure. "Seems as if folks couldn't always be in just the right place."
"I am not hurt," she said with a little shudder.
"Now, how are you going to do to get home?" said the doctor looking much concerned. "Shall I—"
"I will walk home," she said interrupting him.
"You are not able! We are three miles, at least, from Mrs. Derrick's house. You could not bear it."
"I can walk three miles," she said with a faint, fair smile. "I will go home with Sam, and you can take care of the horses."
"That would be a tolerably backhanded arrangement!" said the doctor.—"Young man, will you bring these horses into town for me—after I get them on their legs—to Judge Harrison's, or anywhere?—I must take care of this lady and see her safe."
"Yes—I'll bring 'em into town," said Sam, "but Miss Faith's to be seen to first—if they don't get on their legs all night! That'll be a work of time, I take it. Miss Faith—could you walk just a little way?—there's a house there, and maybe a wagon."
"You don't understand me," said the doctor. "I asked if you would do me the favour to bring my horses into town. I will take care of the lady."
Sam considered a minute—not the doctor but things.