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"
Is
she
hurt
--
bad
?
"
The
old
man
's
voice
shook
.
"
There
ai
n't
no
tellin
'
,
"
sobbed
Nancy
.
"
She
lay
back
that
white
an
'
still
she
might
easy
be
dead
;
but
Miss
Polly
said
she
wa
'n'
t
dead
--
an
'
Miss
Polly
had
oughter
know
,
if
any
one
would
--
she
kept
up
such
a
listenin
'
an
'
a
feelin
'
for
her
heartbeats
an
'
her
breath
!
"
"
Could
n't
ye
tell
anythin
'
what
it
done
to
her
?
--
that
--
that
--
"
Old
Tom
's
face
worked
convulsively
.
Nancy
's
lips
relaxed
a
little
.
"
I
wish
ye
WOULD
call
it
somethin'
,
Mr.
Tom
an
'
somethin'
good
an
'
strong
,
too
.
Drat
it
!
Ter
think
of
its
runnin
'
down
our
little
girl
!
I
always
hated
the
evil-smellin
'
things
,
anyhow
--
I
did
,
I
did
!
"
"
But
where
is
she
hurt
?
"
"
I
do
n't
know
,
I
do
n't
know
,
"
moaned
Nancy
.
"
There
's
a
little
cut
on
her
blessed
head
,
but
'
tai
n't
bad
--
that
ai
n't
--
Miss
Polly
says
.
She
says
she
's
afraid
it
's
infernally
she
's
hurt
.
"
A
faint
flicker
came
into
Old
Tom
's
eyes
.
"
I
guess
you
mean
internally
,
Nancy
,
"
he
said
dryly
.
"
She
's
hurt
infernally
,
all
right
--
plague
take
that
autymobile
!
--
but
I
do
n't
guess
Miss
Polly
'd
be
usin
'
that
word
,
all
the
same
.
"
"
Eh
?
Well
,
I
do
n't
know
,
I
do
n't
know
,
"
moaned
Nancy
,
with
a
shake
of
her
head
as
she
turned
away
.
"
Seems
as
if
I
jest
could
n't
stand
it
till
that
doctor
gits
out
o
'
there
.
I
wish
I
had
a
washin
'
ter
do
--
the
biggest
washin
'
I
ever
see
,
I
do
,
I
do
!
"
she
wailed
,
wringing
her
hands
helplessly
.
