Quincy said, "You won't be offended if I tell you the whole truth?"

"No; why should I?" asked Huldy.

As she said this she gathered up the reins and gave them a sharp pull.

The white mare understood this to be a signal to do some good travelling and she started off at a brisk trot.

Quincy said, "I was told yesterday by a friend that if I was not a marrying man they would advise me to leave Deacon Mason's house at once."

The blood shot into Huldy's face at once. He was not a marrying man and consequently he was going to leave. He did not care for her or he would stay. Then another thought struck her. Perhaps he was going away because he was afraid she would fall in love with him.

As the Deacon had said, she was high spirited, and for an instant she was filled with indignation. She shut her eyes, and her heart seemed to stop its beating. She heard Quincy's voice, "Look out for the curve, Miss Mason." She dropped the left rein and mechanically gave the right one a strong, sharp pull with both hands. Quincy grasped the reins, but it was too late.

Huldy's pull on the right rein had thrown the horse almost at right angles to the buggy. The steep hill and sharp curve in the road did the rest. The buggy stood for an instant on two wheels, then fell on its side with a crash, taking the horse off her feet at the same time.

Huldy pitched forward as the buggy was falling, striking her left arm upon the wheel, and then fell into the road. Quincy gave a quick leap over the dasher, falling on the prostrate horse, and grasping her by the head, pressed it to the ground. The mare lay motionless. Quincy rushed to Miss Mason and lifted her to her feet, but found her a dead weight in his arms. He looked in her face. She had evidently fainted. Her left arm hung by her side in a helpless sort of way; he touched it lightly between the elbow and shoulder. It was broken. Grasping her in his arms he ran to the back door and burst into the kitchen where Mrs. Mason was at work.

Quincy said in quick, excited tones, "There has been an accident, Mrs.

Mason, and your daughter's arm is broken; she has also fainted. I will take her right to her room and put her on her bed. You can bring her out of that." Suiting the action to the word, he took Huldy upstairs, saying, "I will go for the doctor at once."

Then he dashed down the stairs and out of the front door; as he reached the team he found Hiram standing beside it, his eyes wide open with astonishment.

"Had a smash-up, Mr. Sawyer?" he asked. "How did it happen?"

"All my carelessness," said Quincy. "Come, give me a lift on the buggy, quick."

How it was done Quincy could never tell afterwards, but in a very short time the buggy was righted, the mare on her feet and the harness adjusted. Hiram took off his cap and began dusting the mare, whose white coat showed the dust very plainly.

"Where does the nearest doctor live, Hiram?" asked Quincy.

"Second house up the road you just come down," said Hiram. "The folks say he don't know much, anyway."

"Well, you get him here as quick as possible," said Quincy. "I am going to Eastborough Centre to telegraph for a surgeon and a trained nurse.

Can you remember that?"

Quincy pa.s.sed him a dollar bill.

Hiram winked and said, "I guess I can," and darted off up the hill.

Quincy sprang into the team and the white mare dashed forward at full speed. As he reached the Pettengill house he saw Ezekiel standing at the front gate. With difficulty he pulled the mare up, for she was greatly excited.

"Mr. Pettengill," said he, "there has been a serious accident. Miss Mason has been thrown from her carriage and her left arm is broken. I sent Hiram for a doctor and I am on my way to Eastborough to telegraph to Boston for a surgeon and a nurse. I shall not return to-night. Go up to the Deacon's and stay with her."

As he said this the mare gave a bound forward and she never slackened pace until Eastborough Centre was reached.

Quincy sent his telegram and returned the injured buggy and the horse to the stable keeper, telling him to have it repaired and he would pay the bill. He arranged to have a driver and a four-seated team ready on the arrival of the train bearing the doctor and the nurse. In about an hour he received a telegram that they would leave on the 6.05 express and would reach Eastborough Centre at 7.15.

They arrived, and the hired driver, doctor, and nurse started for Mason's Corner.

The last train to Boston left at 9.20. Ten minutes before that hour the team returned with the doctor.

"She is all right," he said. "Everything has been done for her, and the other doctor will write me when my services are needed again. Good night."

The train dashed in and the doctor sped back to Boston.

Quincy had engaged a room at the hotel, and he at once retired to it, but not to sleep. He pa.s.sed the most uncomfortable night that had ever come to him.

The next afternoon Hiram told Mandy that he heard Professor Strout say to Robert Wood that he guessed that "accident would never have occurred if that city chap hadn't been trying to drive hoss with one hand."

Mandy said, "That Strout is a mean old thing, anyway, and if you tell me another thing that he says, I'll fill your mouth full o' soft soap, or my name isn't Mandy Skinner."

CHAPTER XI.

SOME SAD TIDINGS.

The morning of the accident, when Quincy saw Ezekiel Pettengill standing on the steps of Uncle Ike's house, Ezekiel was the bearer of some sad tidings.

He recognized Quincy as the latter started to come up the path, and saw him retrace his steps, and naturally thought, as most men would, that the reason Quincy did not come in was because he did not wish to meet him.

"Who was you looking after?" asked Uncle Ike, as Ezekiel entered the room and closed the door.

"I think it was Mr. Sawyer," replied Ezekiel, "on his way to Eastborough Centre."

"That Mr. Sawyer," said Uncle Ike, "is a very level-headed young man. He called on me once and I like him very much. Do you know him, 'Zeke?"

"Yes, I know who he is," Ezekiel answered, "but I have never been introduced to him. He nods and I nod, or I say, 'good mornin',' and he says, 'good mornin'.'"

"Don't you go up to Deacon Mason's as much as you used to, 'Zeke?" asked Uncle Ike. "I thought Huldy and you were going to make a match of it."

Ezekiel replied, "Well, to be honest, Uncle Ike, Huldy and me had a little tiff, and I haven't seen her to speak to her for more than three weeks, but I guess it will all come out all right some day."

"Well, you're on the right track, 'Zeke," said Uncle Ike. "Do all your fighting before you get married. But what brings you down here so early in the morning?"

"I've got some bad news," replied Ezekiel. "Have you heard from Alice lately?"

"No," said Uncle Ike, "and I can't understand it. She has always written to me once a fortnight, and it's a month now since I heard from her, and she has sent me a book every Christmas until this last one."

"She has been very sick, Uncle Ike," said Ezekiel. "She was taken down about the middle of December and was under the doctor's care for three weeks."

"Is she better?" asked Uncle Ike eagerly.

"Yes, she is up again," said Ezekiel, "but she is very weak; but that ain't the worst of it," he added.

"Why, what's the matter?" asked Uncle Ike. "Why didn't her friends let us know?"