Читать книгу Mr. Waddy's Return онлайн

38 страница из 62

Miranda had cut the lashings of rotten stuff. Uncle Jake supported the man in his arms. He was perfectly insensible.

“He’s not dead,” said Uncle Jake.

“He’ll live; I know he’ll live!” cried Miranda.

“Hooray!” shouted the two boys tumultuously—a view-halloo for a found life.

“Thank God!” said Miss Sullivan, with a quick, irrepressible sob of thankfulness.

ssss1

UNCLE JAKE and his giant progeny made light of their burden, all the half-mile to old Dempster’s. They were confident, feeling their own vigorous blood beating healthily from end to end of their great bodies, that no man, not dead, could die. In their experience as farmers and fishermen, they had seen much more dangerous hurts recovered from than any of the stranger’s.

“He’s pretty well bunged up an’ has swallered an almighty lot o’ salt water; but that’ll do him good an’ cure the bruises. Why, I shouldn’t wonder,” continued Uncle Jake, gradually talking himself into positiveness, “ef he was jumpin’ ’round by day after to-morrer, as spry as a two-year-old. He ain’t a sailor. I kind er guess he was a passenger aboard some ’long-shore craft. That wrecked stuff looked like it belonged to some Down East schooner. I hope it warn’t Bill Dempster’s. Now, Mirandy, you take good keer o’ this here chap an’ p’r’aps he’ll be a-buckin’ up to yer, when he’s so’s to be ’round.”