You Saved the Wrong One

"Yes, our Mart---" piped out one of the smaller children, but an older
one chided him, "Now you hush, and let Mom tell about it."

"That Lyman Mertzheimer," said Mrs. Landis indignantly, "abody can't
trust at all! He let me believe that he and Martin was walkin' along
friendly like and that's how Mart got hurt. But here after Lyman left
and the doctor had Mart all fixed up and was goin' he told me that
Martin was in the side of the road and wouldn't got hurt at all if he
hadn't run to the middle to pull Lyman back. He saved that mean
fellow's life and gets no thanks for it from him! After all Lyman's
dirty tricks this takes the cake!"

Amanda's eyes sparkled. "He--I think Martin's wonderful!" she said, her
lips trembling.

"Yes," the mother agreed as she wiped her eyes with one corner of her
gingham apron. "I'd rather my boy laid up in bed hurt like he is than
have him like Lyman."

"Oh, Mom," little Emma came running into the room, "I looked in at Mart
and he's awake. Mebbe he wants somebody to talk to him like I did when
I had the measles. Dare I go set with him a little if I keep quiet?"

"Why," said Mrs. Landis, "that would be a nice job for Amanda. You go
up," she addressed the girl, "and stay a little with him. He'll
appreciate your comin' to see him."

Amanda's heart galloped. Her whole being was a mass of contradictions.
One second she longed to fly up the steps to where the plumed knight of
her girlish dreams lay, the next she wanted to flee down the country
road away from him.