He
went on duty at six o'clock in the morning, after an early breakfast
that 'Manda Grier and his mother got him, for Statira was not strong
enough yet to do much, and he was to be relieved at eight. At
nightfall, after two half-hour respites for dinner and tea, he was
so tired that he could scarcely stand.
"Well, how do you like it, as fur's you've gone?" asked the
instructing conductor, in whom Lemuel had recognised an old
acquaintance. "Sweet life, ain't it? There! That switch hain't
worked again! Jump off, young man, and put your shoulder to the
wheel!"
The car had failed to take the right-hand turn where the line
divided; it had to be pushed back, and while the driver tugged and
swore under his breath at his horses, Lemuel set himself to push the
car.
"'S no use!" said the driver finally. "I got to hitch 'em on at the
other end, and pull her back."
He uncoupled the team from the front of the car, and swung round
with it. Lemuel felt something strike him, on the leg, and he fell
down. He scrambled to his feet again, but his left leg doubled under
him; it went through his mind that one of the horses must have
lashed out and broken it; then everything seemed to stop.
The world began again for him in the apothecary's shop where he had
been carried, and from which he was put into an ambulance, by a
policeman.
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