"Well, we won't forget _that_."
Betty had stepped aboard the sloop again to reef down and make all
taut. Her sailor-soul would not allow her to leave the lapstreak in a
frowsy condition.
Meanwhile Cecile came flying down from the garage, and between his two
sisters Lawford was aided up to the house. Despite the young man's
protests, Dr. Ambrose was called and he rattled over in what the jolly
medical man termed his "one-horse shay." That rattletrap of a
second-hand car was known in every town and hamlet for miles around.
Sometimes he got stalled, for the engine of the car was one of the
crankiest ever built, and the good physician had to get out and proceed
on foot. When this happened the man who owned a horse living nearest
to the unredeemed automobile always hitched up and dragged the car
home. For Dr. Ambrose was beloved as few men save a physician is ever
loved in a country community.
"You got a hard crack and no mistake, young man," the physician said,
plastering his patient's head in a workmanlike manner.
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