semi-vertical position among the young trees. The
two occupants were thrown from their seat; the girl fell clear, but her
father was less fortunate.

In an instant the boy had flung himself from his horse, dropping the
reins to the ground, and the animal, although snorting and shivering,
had no thought of disgracing his training by breaking his parole. With
quick, ungainly strides the boy brought himself to the upturned
machine. It was curious that he should appear to such disadvantage on
his feet. In the saddle he was grace personified.

For a moment he looked somewhat stupidly upon the wreck. Had it been a
horse or a steer he would have known the procedure, but this experience
was new to his life. Besides, there were strangers here. He had no
fear of strangers when they wore schaps and coloured handkerchiefs, but
a girl in a brown sweater and an oldish man with a white collar were
creatures to be approached with caution. The oldish man was lying on
the ground, with a leg pinned under the car, and Brown Sweater raised
his head against her knee and pressed his cheeks with small white
fingers and looked at the boy with bright grey eyes and said, "Well,
aren't you going to do anything?"

That brought him back. "Sure," he said, springing to her side. "Whada
ye' want me to do?"

"I am afraid my leg is broken," said the man, speaking calmly
notwithstanding his pain. "Can you get the jack out of the tool box
and raise the car?"

The girl pointed to the box, and in a moment he had the jack in his
hand. But it was a new tool to him and he fumbled with it stupidly.
The handle would not fit, and when it did fit it operated the wrong way.

"Oh, let me have it," she cried, impatiently. In a moment she had it
set under the frame of the car and was plying the handle up and down
with rapid strokes. The machine began to groan with the pressure, and
the boy looked on, helpless and mortified. He was beginning to realize
that there were more things in the world than riding a horse, and
shooting bottles. He felt a sudden desire to be of great service. And
just now he could be of no service whatever.

But the foot of the jack began to sink in the soft earth, and the girl
looked up helplessly. "It won't lift it," she said. "What shall we
do?"

It was his chance. He was eighteen, and his wild, open life had given
him muscles of steel. "Here," he said, roughly, "move his leg when I
get it clear." He turned his b