was stained with blood.

"Oh, what have you done, Kent! You shouldn't have taken the bandage
off!" exclaimed Jot, in fright. "See how the blood is dripping from the
cloth!"

"It's nothing, I tell you!" growled Old Tilly. "Wind the thing up again!
It's only a nail tear!"

Old Tilly was swaying again, and they forced him gently back. The
little woman looked up startled.

"What is it, Jim? How did it happen?" she quavered.

Jim's face looked very sober. "I guess I better fetch the doctor," he
said. "He hurt it on a nail, he says. I won't stop to harness up--Old
Betty's used to bein' rode bareback."

He hurried away, followed by his wife. Jot was examining the torn wrist
tenderly. Some new, untried strength seemed to spring into the brown,
boyish face. It took on the lines of a man's.

"It's an artery, Kentie. I know, because the blood leaps up so when the
handkerchief is off. It can't have been bleeding all night. I don't
understand."

"It bled some last night," said Old Tilly, "but I stopped it. I guess I
hit it someway just now against the table. It began again worse than
ever. Cover it up, can't you? It's--all--right!"