"Been waitin' an hour on you as it is." "That's it," as Frona bent over him.

"Just unbuckle that strap.

The pesky thing! 'Twas just out o' my reach all the time." "Are you hurt ?" she asked.
He slipped out of his straps, shook himself, and felt the twisted arm.
"Nope.

Sound as a dollar, thank you.

And no kick to register, either." He reached over and wiped his muddy hands on a low-bowed spruce.