"Dan! Is it you?" she cried. "He ain't dead yet. I can feel him
breathing. If the doctor would only come!"
"Who'd you call?"
"The first one in the book, Dr. Adair."
"But he's the big doctor up at the hospital; he won't come."
"He will too! I told him he had to. And the gates, I got 'em down. Don't
stop to feel his heart, Dan. Call the doctor again!"
"The first thing to do is to get a light," said Dan. "Ain't there a
lantern or something?"
"Strike matches, like I did. They are on the window-sill--only
hurry--Dan, hurry!"
Dan went about his task in his own way, taking time to find an oil lamp
on the shelf behind the door and deliberately lighting it before he took
his seat at the telephone. As he waited for the connection, his puzzled,
troubled eyes dwelt not on Uncle Jed, but on the crimson boots and
fantastic cap of Uncle Jed's companion.
"Dr. Adair is on the way," he said quietly, when he hung up the receiver,
"and a man is coming from the yards to look after the gates. Is he still
breathing?"
"Only when I make him!" said Nance, pressing the lungs of the injured
man. "There, Uncle Jed," she coaxed, "take another deep breath, just one
time. Go on! Do it for Nance. One time more! That's right! Once more!"
But Uncle Jed was evidently very tired of trying to accommodate. The
gasps came at irregular intervals.
"How long have you been doing this?" asked Dan, kneeling beside her.
"I don't know. Ever since I came."
"How did you happen to come?"
"I saw the lightning strike the bell.
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