"How does it feel, Sam?" Daisy asked.
"It don't feel without I stir it, Miss Daisy — and then, it's
like a knife."
"He has sprained it, I am afraid, Logan," said Daisy, getting
out of her chair and coming to the consultation. "I think it
is swelling now."
Sam had bared his unfortunate ankle. Logan looked up from it
to the little speaker whose words were so quietly wise, with
unspoken admiration.
"Can't ye walk then, Sam?" he urged. "Here is Miss Daisy in
the middle of the road, and wanting to be at the Lake — and
how much further it may be to the Lake is a subject unknown to
me. Can't ye bear your foot surely?"
Sam's reply was sorrowful but decided; he could not bear it at
all, with any weight upon it.
"Never mind, Logan," said Daisy; "I can wait. You had better
go forward and see if you can find the boys. They can take
care of me."
Logan felt the justness of this proposition, and at once put
his long legs in swift motion to overtake the advance party;
exercising a good strong voice too presently in hallooing to
them. Daisy was left with Sam. The thought crossed her mind
that this was getting to be an odd party of pleasure; but her
real concern was for the sprained ankle.
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