<SPAN name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></SPAN><hr />
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<h2><SPAN name="Page_107" id="Page_107"></SPAN>CHAPTER XII<span class="totoc"><SPAN href="#toc">ToC</SPAN></span></h2>
<h3>THE EDGY-EDGE!</h3>
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<p>Dorothy stood and looked down. It was a very steep descent, and the
bottom, a black sheet of water, that looked like ink.</p>
<p>The danger of the spot seemed to fascinate her. Then the thought that
perhaps poor, wilful Tavia had fallen down such a place; that perhaps
at that very moment, she lay alone, helpless, at the bottom of a
cliff!</p>
<p>"But there is a road down there," Dorothy mused. "I never would have
thought to find a roadway along those rocks. Even the Indians, who
very likely, made most of these trails, might easily have found a
better and safer road to and from the same woodland ways."</p>
<p>Then she remembered that the lumbermen had use of streams in their
traffic, and she decided that this was one of the roads made for their
log teams.</p>
<p>Still fascinated with the danger, she looked over again. A sudden
dizziness seized her. She tried <SPAN name="Page_108" id="Page_108"></SPAN>to step back, but the ledge seemed to
crumble beneath her feet!</p>
<p>Staring wildly at the black water below, she was pitched
forward—down, down, down!</p>
<p>Then she thought the water would save her; that it was not rough and
sharp like the rocks! She thought she would rest awhile on that soft
bed! After that she ceased to think!</p>
<p>Dorothy Dale lay there alone, unconscious!</p>
<p>Trundling along the narrow roadway, old Josiah Hobbs and his wife,
Samanthy, rode in their farm wagon. They had been to town with berries
and in the back of the covered vehicle the empty crates told quite as
plainly as the contented smile on the wrinkled faces of the couple,
that berries were in demand that morning, and that the Hobbs' kind had
met a ready market.</p>
<p>Near the elbow in the lower road, at the foot of the precipice, where
lay so still the form of pretty Dorothy Dale, the old horse slowed up.
Mrs. Hobbs saw the girl lying by the water's edge.</p>
<p>"Mercy on us, Josiah!" she cried. "It's a girl!"</p>
<p>"Sure as you live!" replied the old man, giving the reins a jerk.
"What can have happened to the little one?"</p>
<p>"Pray to goodness she ain't dead!" went on Samanthy. "Let me get to
her!" and before her <SPAN name="Page_109" id="Page_109"></SPAN>husband could straighten his cramped limbs, she
had crawled out, and was beside Dorothy.</p>
<p>"Is she?" asked Josiah, hesitating.</p>
<p>"She is," replied the wife. The pair seemed to define each other's
meaning in spite of the vagueness of their words.</p>
<p>"But she's awful weakish," whispered the wife. "We got to get her
somewhere."</p>
<p>"Samanthy!" and the farmer's voice trembled, "mebby she the gal from
the asylum! She that escaped! Let's load her up on the cart and fetch
her home."</p>
<p>"You old skinflint! To cal'late on the half-dead girl," and she raised
Dorothy's head tenderly. "But all the same she got to get somewhere,
and ours is as near as any other house. Here, take hold," she put her
arms about the helpless form. "Mercy on us! Lucky if she don't die
before we get her there. Make that horse know he's to go. If that whip
won't do, yank up a tree and let him have it."</p>
<p>The farmer trembled visibly as he helped put poor Dorothy in the
wagon. If she could only have known!</p>
<p>The woman dragged off her apron and her jacket to make something of a
pillow for the pretty <SPAN name="Page_110" id="Page_110"></SPAN>yellow head, that lay so still. Suddenly
Dorothy opened her eyes.</p>
<p>"As sure as you live," whispered Samanthy, "It <i>is</i> that girl from the
san—sanitation! I saw her once out with the nurse, and this is her!"</p>
<p>"And there's a reward——"</p>
<p>"Shet up!" she snapped. "Lay still, dearie. You're awful weak and
we're taking you home."</p>
<p>"Home!" murmured Dorothy in a dazed way.</p>
<p>"Yes, to mommer and popper!" This from the farmer.</p>
<p>"Shet up, you, Josiah! How do you know she wants to go to them folks!
There, dearie, is your head hurt?"</p>
<p>Dorothy only moaned and closed her eyes again.</p>
<p>"Heven't you got a drop of anything? Not even a peppermint? I told you
not to eat them all at a gullup," growled the woman. "I never saw the
like of you fer gluttonin', Josiah!"</p>
<p>"And I never saw the beat of you fer growlin'. How do you feel,
missy?"</p>
<p>"Will—you—shet—up? Josiah Hobbs! Don't you see she's sleepin' like
a babe?"</p>
<p>"And do you think it's her? The one from the sanitation?"</p>
<p>"Shet up!"</p>
<p>"<SPAN name="Page_111" id="Page_111"></SPAN>And there's a lot of money in that. Well, we need it."</p>
<p>Mrs. Samanthy Hobbs simply pulled the farmer's long shaggy beard that
bobbed up and down, goat fashion. Her "shet-ups" seemed exhausted.</p>
<p>Dorothy heard a little—she could hear the rumble of the wagon, and
she could feel the hard, rough, but kind hand of the woman who
smoothed her brow in a motherly way. That in itself was enough to make
her close her eyes and feel content.</p>
<p>What a power is the hand of woman! Even though it be hardened by the
hardest kind of work it has in it the magic stroke of tenderness.</p>
<p>"Now, there," Samanthy would murmur, "soon you will be in bed. Then we
will fix you all up nice."</p>
<p>Bed! Dorothy thought she was in bed—it was so much better than the
stones, and that black water.</p>
<p>But she was getting her senses and with them came pain. Her head hurt,
and the wagon jolted so that she was sore all over.</p>
<p>"We have only a few more trots, then we will be at home," soothed
Samanthy. "After that you kin sleep in a feather bed—as soft as your
own white hands."</p>
<p><SPAN name="Page_112" id="Page_112"></SPAN>She was smoothing those hands—they were very white, and very soft.
What had turned Dorothy Dale's camping days into this tragedy? Where
was Tavia? And what was to become of Dorothy?</p>
<p>Strange how illness melts the strongest! Dorothy just wanted to
rest—to rest—yes, to rest!</p>
<p>At the dingy back door, the old horse stopped. The farmer and his wife
almost carried Dorothy in, and the strain made her close her eyes
again; made her forget everything.</p>
<p>After much talk between the farmer and his wife, and many contrary
directions, Dorothy was finally enveloped in a nightdress that even
Tavia in her palmiest days could not have anticipated. It was big, it
was broad, it was long, and it was roomy!</p>
<p>But it was sweet and clean, and Dorothy closed her eyes directly after
Samanthy Hobbs put to her lips a drink of catnip tea!</p>
<p>"She's the girl from the asylum," whispered the farmer's wife. "Jest
keep still and we will git her back all right."</p>
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