ile an ugly cut on the forehead was bleeding in a way which sobered
the boys and frightened the girls half out of their wits.

"He's killed! He's killed!" wailed Sue, hiding her face and beginning to
cry.

"No, I'm not. I'll be all right when I get my breath. Where's Jill?"
asked Jack, stoutly, though still too giddy to see straight.

The group about him opened, and his comrade in misfortune was discovered
lying quietly in the snow with all the pretty color shocked out of her
face by the fall, and winking rapidly, as if half stunned. But no wounds
appeared, and when asked if she was dead, she answered in a vague sort
of way,--

"I guess not. Is Jack hurt?"

"Broken his head," croaked Joe, stepping aside, that she might behold
the fallen hero vainly trying to look calm and cheerful with red drops
running down his cheek and a lump on his forehead.

Jill shut her eyes and waved the girls away, saying, faintly,--

"Never mind me. Go and see to him."

"Don't! I'm all right," and Jack tried to get up in order to prove that
headers off a bank were mere trifles to him; but at the first movement
of the left leg he uttered a sharp cry of pain, and would have fallen if
Gus had not caught and gently laid him down.

"What is it, old chap?" asked Frank, kneeling beside him, really alarmed
now, the hurts seeming worse than mere bumps, which were common affairs
among baseball players, and not worth much notice.

"I lit on my head, but I guess I've broken my leg. Don't frighten
mother," and Jack held fast to Frank's arm as he looked into the anxious
face bent over him; for, though the elder tyrannized over the younger,
the brothers loved one another dearly.

"Lift his head, Frank, while I tie my handkerchief round to stop the
bleeding," said a quiet voice, as Ed Devlin laid a handful of soft snow
on the wound; and Jack's face brightened as he turned to thank the one
big boy who never was rough with the small ones.

"Better get him right home," advised Gus, who stood by looking on, with
his little sisters Laura and Lotty clinging to him.

"Take Jill, too, for it's my opinion she has broken her back. She can't
stir one bit," announced Molly Loo, with a droll air of triumph, as if
rather pleased than otherwise to have her patient hurt the worse; for
Jack's wound was very effective, and Molly had a taste for the tragic.

This cheerful statement was greeted with a wail from Susan and howls
from Boo, who had earned that name f