They ran to his assistance, but before they reached him, a soft hand was
held out to him, and a gentle voice asked:
"Have you hurt yourself badly?" Roger saw the deformed boy standing by
his side, and then remembered that he had seen him sitting near by on
the bank.
[Illustration: "_The deformed boy knelt on the ice_."]
"I think I must have sprained my ankle," he replied.
The deformed boy knelt on the ice, and while the others clustered
around, asking questions and offering suggestions, he quietly unbuckled
his skates for him.
"I'll have to get home, I suppose," said Roger faintly; "but, boys,
don't let this spoil your fun--don't come with me."
"May I go with you?" said the deformed boy. "I am not going to stay
here any longer."
Roger thanked him, and a policeman coming up at that moment to inquire
about the accident, a carriage was procured, Roger was put in, the
deformed boy followed, and Roger was driven home.
"My fun is spoiled for this winter," he said, with a moan. "I know a
fellow who sprained his ankle last year, and the doctor says perhaps he
will never be able to skate again. What an unlucky thing for me!--it
wasn't my fault either."
"No," added the deformed boy gently. "It was not your fault; and it was
not my fault that my nurse let me fall when I was a baby and injured my
back.
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