and nose.

Wheels were common enough. Many of the farmers' daughters owned and
rode them, but he knew these same farmers' daughters; this face was a
stranger's. He glanced at the Angel's tumbled clothing, the silkiness of
her hair, with its pale satin ribbon, and noticed that she had lost her
hat. Her lips tightened in an ominous quiver. He left her and picked
up the wheel: as he had surmised, he knew it. This, then, was Freckles'
Swamp Angel. There was trouble in the Limberlost, and she had broken
down racing to McLean. Duncan turned the bays into a fence-corner, tied
one of them, unharnessed the other, fastened up the trace chains, and
hurried to the nearest farmhouse to send help to the Angel. He found a
woman, who took a bottle of camphor, a jug of water, and some towels,
and started on the run.

Then Duncan put the bay to speed and raced to camp.

The Angel, left alone, lay still for a second, then she shivered and
opened her eyes. She saw that she was on the grass and the broken wheel
beside her. Instantly she realized that someone had carried her there
and gone after help. She sat up and looked around. She noticed the load
of logs and the one horse. Someone was riding after help for her!

"Oh, poor Freckles!" she wailed. "They may be killing him by now. Oh,
how much time have I wasted?"

She hurried to the other bay, her fingers flying as she set him free.
Snatching up a big blacksnake whip that lay on the ground, she caught
the hames, stretched along the horse's neck, and, for the first time,
the fine, big fellow felt on his back the quality of the lash that
Duncan was accustomed to crack over him. He was frightened, and ran at
top speed.

The Angel passed a wildly waving, screaming woman on the road, and a
little later a man riding as if he, too, were in great haste. The man
called to her, but she only lay lower and used the whip. Soon the feet
of the man's horse sounded farther and farther away.

At the South camp they were loading a second wagon, when the Angel
appeared riding one of Duncan's bays, lathered and dripping, and cried:
"Everybody go to Freckles! There are thieves stealing trees, and they
had him bound. They're going to kill him!"

She wheeled the horse toward the Limberlost. The alarm sounded through
camp. The gang were not unprepared. McLean sprang to Nellie's back and
raced after the Angel. As they passed Duncan, he wheeled and followed.
Soon the pike was an irregular procession of ba