"Oh, I've sprained my
ankle. I can't walk at all! Oh, oh!"
Farnsworth looked at her. "Daisy," he said, sternly, "if you've
really sprained your ankle, we'll have to get back into the car--
for I can't carry you. But if you CAN walk, I advise you to do
so."
Daisy looked a little frightened at his severe tone.
"Oh, I suppose I CAN walk," she said, "though it hurts me
dreadfully. Hold me up, Bill."
"I'll hold you," he replied, cheerily. "Now we'll take this
lantern, and we'll walk ahead. Pennington, you follow with Miss
Fairfield. Don't talk much, you'll need all your strength to walk
through the storm. It's abating a little, but it's raining cats
and dogs yet."
Unconsciously, Bill had assumed command of the expedition, and
involuntarily, the others obeyed him. That mile was a dreadful
walk! At first, it seemed fairly easy, for the road was a good
one, though wet and slippery. But soon the satin slippers were
soaked; stones and bits of gravel made their way inside, and at
last Patty found it almost impossible to keep hers on at all. Jack
tried to help, by tying the little slippers on with his own and
Patty's handkerchiefs, but these soon gave way. The rain fell
steadily now; not in dashes and sheets, but a moderate downpour
that seemed as if it meant to go on forever.
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