Page 108 - pollyanna

‘Indeed! How do you know that?’ asked the man, trying
to change the position of his head without moving the rest
of his body.
‘Oh, lots of ways; there—like that—the way you act with
the dog,’ she added, pointing to the long, slender hand that
rested on the dog’s sleek head near him. ‘It’s funny how
dogs and cats know the insides of folks better than other
folks do, isn’t it? Say, I’m going to hold your head,’ she fin-
ished abruptly.
The man winced several times and groaned once; softly
while the change was being made; but in the end he found
Pollyanna’s lap a very welcome substitute for the rocky hol-
low in which his head had lain before.
‘Well, that is—better,’ he murmured faintly.
He did not speak again for some time. Pollyanna, watch-
ing his face, wondered if he were asleep. She did not think
he was. He looked as if his lips were tight shut to keep back
moans of pain. Pollyanna herself almost cried aloud as she
looked at his great, strong body lying there so helpless. One
hand, with fingers tightly clenched, lay outflung, motion-
less. The other, limply open, lay on the dog’s head. The dog,
his wistful, eager eyes on his master’s face, was motionless,
too.
Minute by minute the time passed. The sun dropped
lower in the west and the shadows grew deeper under the
trees. Pollyanna sat so still she hardly seemed to breathe.
A bird alighted fearlessly within reach of her hand, and a
squirrel whisked his bushy tail on a tree-branch almost un-
der her nose—yet with his bright little eyes all the while on

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