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Page 45
Only a brief glance did Pollyanna give about her; then, with a
confused vision in her eyes of crimson draperies, book-lined
walls, a littered floor, an untidy desk, innumerable closed doors
(any one of which might conceal a skeleton), and everywhere dust,
dust, dust, she fled back through the hall to the great carved
door, still half open as she had left it.
In what seemed, even to the injured man, an incredibly short
time, Pollyanna was back in the woods at the man's side.
"Well, what is the trouble? Couldn't you get in?" he demanded.
Pollyanna opened wide her eyes.
"Why, of course I could! I'm HERE," she answered. "As if I'd be
here if I hadn't got in! And the doctor will be right up just as
soon as possible with the men and things. He said he knew just
where you were, so I didn't stay to show him. I wanted to be with
you."
"Did you?" smiled the man, grimly. "Well, I can't say I admire
your taste. I should think you might find pleasanter companions."
"Do you mean--because you're so--cross?"
"Thanks for your frankness. Yes."
Pollyanna laughed softly.
"But you're only cross OUTSIDE--You arn't cross inside a bit!"
"Indeed! How do you know that?" asked the man, trying to change
the position of his head without moving the rest of his body.
"Oh, lots of ways; there--like that--the way you act with the
dog," she added, pointing to the long, slender hand that rested
on the dog's sleek head near him. "It's funny how dogs and cats
know the insides of folks better than other folks do, isn't it?
Say, I'm going to hold your head," she finished abruptly.
The man winced several times and groaned once; softly while the
change was being made; but in the end he found Pollyanna's lap a
very welcome substitute for the rocky hollow in which his head
had lain before.
"Well, that is--better," he murmured faintly.
He did not speak again for some time. Pollyanna, watching his
face, wondered if he were asleep. She did not think he was. He
looked as if his lips were tight shut to keep back moans of pain.
Pollyanna herself almost cried aloud as she looked at his great,
strong body lying there so helpless. One hand, with fingers
tightly clenched, lay outflung, motionless. The other, limply
open, lay on the dog's head. The dog, his wistful, eager eyes on
his master's face, was motionless, too.
Minute by minute the time passed. The sun dropped lower in the
west and the shadows grew deeper under the trees. Pollyanna sat
so still she hardly seemed to breathe. A bird alighted fearlessly
within reach of her hand, and a squirrel whisked his bushy tail
on a tree-branch almost under her nose--yet with his bright
little eyes all the while on the motionless dog.
At last the dog pricked up his cars and whined softly; then he
gave a short, sharp bark. The next moment Pollyanna heard voices,
and very soon their owners appeared three men carrying a
stretcher and various other articles.
The tallest of the party--a smooth-shaven, kind-eyed man whom
Pollyanna knew by sight as "Dr. Chilton"--advanced cheerily.
"Well, my little lady, playing nurse?"
"Oh, no, sir," smiled Pollyanna. "I've only held his head--I
haven't given him a mite of medicine. But I'm glad I was here."
"So am I," nodded the doctor, as he turned his absorbed attention
to the injured man.
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