"If only pa has not driven off!" But the senior Shrimplin had not moved from the spot where Custer had left him five minutes before.
"Is that you, son ?" he asked, as Custer appeared at the fence.
"Come here, quick!" commanded the boy.
"For what ?" inquired Mr.Shrimplin.
"You needn't be afraid, it's only a man who's fallen off the iron bridge.

He's down in the bed of the slaughter-house run.

I can't get him out alone!" "I'll bet he's good and drunk!" said the little lamplighter.
"No, he ain't, and he's mighty badly hurt!" said the boy hotly.
"Of course, of course, Custer!" said Mr.Shrimplin.

"He'd a been killed though if he hadn't been drunk." He climbed out of his cart, and clambered over the fence.

Something in Custer's manner warned him that any allusions of a jocular nature would prove highly distasteful to his son, and he followed silently as Custer led the way down to the brook.
"Here's where he is!" said the boy halting.