“I see a sarpent—­” said Sam submissively.

“A sarpent!” echoed Logan—­“it’s not your pairt to be frighted if you see a sarpent.  What hurt would the sight of the brute do ye?  There’s no harm come to ye, boy, but the start.”

“I can’t move it—­” repeated Sam under his breath.

“Logan, perhaps he has sprained his ankle,” said Daisy from her chair; where at first she had been pretty well frightened.

“Weel—­I don’t see it,” replied Logan slowly and unbelievingly.

“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 farther 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.  That, she was very sorry for.  Her own delay and disappointment she took patiently.

Logan’s halloos brought the boys to a stand.  They waited till he came up to them, not deeming it necessary on their part to go back to see what was the matter.  When they heard his news there was a disagreeable pause.  What was to be done?

“Daisy can walk the rest of the way,” was the decision of her brother.

“How far is it?” said Preston.

“I don’t know!—­it’s no great things of a walk anyhow.  Girls are always getting into trouble!”

“But what has got to be done with Sam?” said Preston.

“He can take care of himself,” said Sam’s young master.

“He can’t move, sir, on his own feet,” said Logan.

“You’ll have to carry him, then.  I suppose we cannot leave him in the woods, for humanity.”

“There’s Miss Daisy, sir.”

“What a plague!” exclaimed Ransom.  “Daisy can walk.  She must at any rate; and you can bring her chair along to make firewood.  Boys we ought to be there this minute—­at the Lake.  We shall be cheated out of all our fishing before dinner.  That’s along of mounting guard on a girl!  And after dinner there won’t be two inches of time.”