With endless pain and trouble I reached a thicket,
and was feebly working on a branch with my penknife, when the sound of a
heavy footstep surprised me.
A brown harvest-hand, in straw hat and shirtsleeves, presently appeared.
He grinned when he saw me, and the thick snub of his nose would have
seemed like a sneer at any other time.
"Are you the gentleman that got hurt?" he asked. "Is it pretty tolerable
bad?"
"Who said I was hurt?" I cried in astonishment.
"One of your town-women fro them hotel--I reckon she was. I was binding
oats, in the field over the ridge; but I haven't lost no time in comin'
here."
While I was stupidly staring at this announcement, he whipped out a big
clasp knife, and in a few minutes fashioned me a practicable crutch.
Then, taking me by the other arm, he set me in motion toward the
village.
Grateful as I was for the man's help, he aggravated me by his ignorance.
When I asked if he knew the lady, he answered: "It's more'n likely _you_
know her better." But where did she come from? Down from the hill, he
guessed, but it might ha' been up the road.
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