"Keep still!" said Sally. "I'll get up and then—oh!" Sally was already part way up. There was a terrible pain in her left leg. She felt dizzy. "I—I think—I'll lie down," she murmured; and she fainted.
Sally opened her eyes presently, and smiled vaguely. The kite was gone, she was lying upon her back and Everett and Dick were bending over her, while the Carlings and the other small boys gazed in awe-struck silence.
"Where's the kite?" Sally asked weakly. She was not quite herself yet.
"Never mind about the kite, Sally," Dick answered; "it's broken and I'm glad of it. Where did it hit you?"
"I've a pain in my left leg," said Sally. "It's a pretty hard pain."
Her lips were white as she spoke, and she pressed them together to stop their quivering. She did not mean to cry.
"We'll carry you in," said Dick.
So he and Everett made a chair by crossing their hands, each hand clasping one of the other boy's. Then they stooped down and Sally managed to sit upon their clasped hands. It was the first time that she had seen this device.
"I'm afraid I shall fall off," she said. "Do you mind if I hold on to you?"
Dick laughed quietly. "Put your arms round our necks and you won't fall. It's as easy as a cradle."