All was expectation. The approaching horse started into a jolting trot. As he neared the barn he began to buck. The inevitable followed. Over the horse's head went the passengers in a heap. The twins quickly extricated themselves, and sprang up uninjured; but the two visitors lay unconscious. "Quick, Samuel, bring water!" directed Mrs. Murphy. In a few minutes, she dashed water in the unconscious faces, and watched anxiously. The water soon restored Esther, who had been stunned by the fall. At last Wathemah opened his eyes, and saw his teacher kneeling by his side. He tried to rise, but fell back with a cry of pain. One arm lay limp by his side. It was evident that his arm was broken. "Is there a surgeon anywhere near Gila?" she asked anxiously. "There's one about fifteen miles away," responded Joseph. "Then I'll try to set Wathemah's arm myself. Several times I have helped my uncle set broken bones. Could you bring me some flat splints about this size?" she asked, showing Joseph what she wanted. "Yes, mum," answered the boy, starting on his errand. "And some strips of muslin, and some pins, Mrs. Murphy?" she continued. In a few moments the articles were ready. By this time Wathemah had recovered consciousness. "You have broken your arm, dear," she said. "I am going to set it. It'll hurt you, but I want you to be brave and keep very still." The child smiled faintly. But as she lifted his arm, he again fainted. They lifted him, and carried him into the house. Then firmly, deftly, as though experienced in such work, Esther pulled and pressed the broken bone into place. The child roused with the pain, but did not cry out again. At last the arm was bandaged, and placed on a cushion. "You must be very careful of your arm, Wathemah," she said, patting his cheek, "until the broken bone grows together." Before the child could speak, there was a knock at the door. The children rushed to open it, and there stood Kenneth Hastings. "I came to see if the cavalcade reached here safely," he said, smiling. "I followed a short distance behind you, until--" Here his comprehending glance grasped the situation. "Wathemah hurt?" he asked in quick sympathy, striding to the child's side. "I feared something might happen." "Old Jim threw 'em," explained three or four eager voices. Kenneth looked inquiringly at Esther. "Were you hurt, too?" he asked in a low voice. "I think not," she said, looking intently at Wathemah. "I believe you _were_. Was she?" he asked, turning to Mrs. Murphy. "She were stunned like from the fall, but was so busy settin' the boy's arm, she didn't think of herself." "Ah." Then turning to Esther again, he questioned her. The family observed every tone in the questions and answers. During the setting of the arm, they had watched Esther with open-mouthed astonishment. "I tell yer, schoolma'am," remarked Joseph, "I bet yer life yer'll hev all yer kin do in Gila, now."