Close noon, McLean placed his men in charge of Duncan, and taking Freckles, drove to town to see how the Angel fared.

McLean visited a greenhouse and bought an armload of its finest products; but Freckles would have none of them.
He would carry his message in a glowing mass of the Limberlost's first goldenrod.
The Bird Woman received them, and in answer to their eager inquiries, said that the Angel was in no way seriously injured, only so bruised and shaken that their doctor had ordered her to lie quietly for the day.
Though she was sore and stiff, they were having work to keep her in bed.
Her callers sent up their flowers with their grateful regards, and the Angel promptly returned word that she wanted to see them.
She reached both hands to McLean.

"What if one old tree is gone?
You don't care, sir?
You feel that Freckles has kept his trust as nobody ever did before, don't you?
You won't forget all those long first days of fright that you told us of, the fearful cold of winter, the rain, heat, and lonesomeness, and the brave days, and lately, nights, too, and let him feel that his trust is broken?
Oh, Mr.McLean," she begged, "say something to him! Do something to make him feel that it isn't for nothing he has watched and suffered it out with that old Limberlost.
Make him see how great and fine it is, and how far, far better he has done than you or any of us expected! What's one old tree, anyway ?" she cried passionately.
"I was thinking before you came.

Those other men were rank big cowards.
They were scared for their lives.

If they were the drivers, I wager you gloves against gloves they never took those logs out to the pike.