Run along to the house and don't worry--and don't say anything to your dad, either.

There's no need to bother him about it.

We'll look after Frank." Already Swan and Sorry and Jim were lifting Frank's limp form from the rear of the wagon.

It sagged in their arms like a dead thing, and Lorraine stepped back shuddering as they passed her.

A minute later she followed them inside, where Jim was lighting the lamp with shaking fingers.