"Do you think you can sit up now?"
Not waiting for a reply, the young man slipped his hand under the girl's
shoulders, and the next minute he had her in his arms.
It was a sad little procession that followed him. Dorothy almost in
tears; Tavia with eyes already overflowing, while Joe kept very close to
Ralph, ready to offer any assistance in carrying Sarah to her home.
But Ralph was well able to manage his burden, for the girl was not
heavy, and she helped herself some by keeping her arms clasped about his
neck. Fortunately the Ford home was not far away.
"There's Mr. Ford," whispered Joe to Tavia, as they reached the gate,
and at that moment the man on the porch raised his head from his paper,
and saw them coming.
Mr. Ford seemed dazed--he did not stir for a moment but sat there
staring wildly at the group now coming up the path.
"Sarah has hurt her ankle," Joe hurried to say, and as his voice roused
the man from his frightened attitude, he sprang up and reached to take
his daughter from the young man's arms.
"I had better put her on a couch," objected Ralph, "Her ankle seems
quite painful."
"What has happened?" asked the father opening the door of the sitting
room and making ready the couch under the window.
"The girls did it," gasped Sarah, "that girl there, Tavia Travers!"
"You!" exclaimed the man, making a threatening move towards the accused
girl.
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