It was Ewen again.

The wounded man spoke to the driver, who immediately pulled up and swung over to the platform where Malcolm was standing.
"Oh, are you sure, Ewen, you are goin' to be all right?
Man, you look awful white." "All right, Mac.

You bet I will.

It's only my arm," said Ewen, his brave, bright words in pathetic contrast to his white face.
At this point Barry came rushing along.
"Why, Ewen! My poor fellow!" he cried, throwing his arm about the wounded man's shoulder.

"What is it ?" "My arm, sir," said the boy, adding some words in a low tone.