“For God’s sake!  Here, put him on the couch,” gasped Amos.

“Billy, take Levine’s bicycle and get the doctor here,” said Pa Norton.

“Hot water and clean cloth, Lydia,” said Amos.  “Let’s get his clothes off, Norton.”

“Don’t touch me except to cut open my clothes and pack the wound with ice in a pad of rags,” said John weakly.  Then he closed his eyes and did not speak again till the doctor came.

Lydia trembling violently could scarcely carry the crushed ice from Lizzie to her father.  No one spoke until the gentle oozing of the blood yielded to the freezing process.  Then Amos said in a low voice to Pa Norton,

“What happened?”

“Can’t say.  Billy and I were coming home from town when we heard the shot ahead of us.  It took us a minute or two to come up to Levine.  He was standing dazed like, said the shot had come from the lake shore way and that’s all he knew about it.”

The beat of horses’ hoofs on the frozen ground broke the silence that followed.  In a moment Dr. Fulton ran into the room.  Lydia seized Florence Dombey and hurried to the kitchen, nor did she leave her station in the furthest corner until the door closed softly after the doctor.  Amos came out into the kitchen and got a drink at the water pail.

“Doc got the bullet,” said Amos.  “Grazed the top of the lungs and came to the surface near the backbone.  Lord, that was a narrow escape!”

“Will he—­will he die?” whispered Lydia.

“Of course not,” answered Amos, with a quick glance at the blanched little face.  “He’s got to have good nursing and he can’t be moved.  Lizzie’s as good a nurse as any one could want.  Doctor’ll be back at midnight and stay the rest of the night.”

“Who did it, Daddy?”

Amos shook his head.  “It might have been Charlie Jackson or it might have been a dozen others.  A sheriff’s liable to have plenty of enemies.  Billy started a bunch hunting.”

Lydia shivered.

“Go to bed, child,” said Amos.  “We’re going to be busy in this house for a while.”

“I want to see him first, please, Daddy.”

“Just a peek then, don’t make a noise.”

Already the living room had a sick room aspect.  The light was lowered and the table was littered with bandages and bottles.  Lydia crept up to the couch and stood looking down at the gaunt, quiet figure.

John opened his eyes and smiled faintly.  “Making you lots of trouble, young Lydia.”

“Oh, no!” exclaimed Lydia.  “Just get well, we don’t mind the trouble.”

“I’ve got to get well, so’s you and I can travel,” whispered Levine.  “Good night, dear.”

Lydia swallowed a sob.  “Good night,” she said.

At first, Amos planned to have Lydia stay out of school to help, but Levine grew so feverishly anxious when he heard of this that the idea was quickly given up and Ma Norton and a neighbor farther up the road arranged to spend the days turn about, helping Lizzie.