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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Robert Falconer"

I can carry 'im fine.'
'Haud awa' wi' ye,' returned Robert; and again Shargar fell behind.
For a few hundred yards he trudged along manfully; but his strength,
more from the nature of his burden than its weight, soon gave way.
He stood still to recover. The same moment Shargar was by his side
again.
'Noo, Robert,' he said, pleadingly.
Robert yielded, and the burden was shifted to Shargar's back.
How they managed it they hardly knew themselves; but after many
changes they at last got Ericson home, and up to his own room. He
had revived several times, but gone off again. In one of his
faints, Robert undressed him and got him into bed. He had so little
to cover him, that Robert could not help crying with misery. He
himself was well provided, and would gladly have shared with
Ericson, but that was hopeless. He could, however, make him warm in
bed. Then leaving Shargar in charge, he sped back to the new town
to Dr. Anderson. The doctor had his carriage out at once, wrapped
Robert in a plaid and brought him home with him.
Ericson came to himself, and seeing Shargar by his bedside, tried to
sit up, asking feebly,
'Where am I?'
'In yer ain bed, Mr. Ericson,' answered Shargar.
'And who are you?' asked Ericson again, bewildered.
Shargar's pale face no doubt looked strange under his crown of red
hair.
'Ow! I'm naebody.'
'You must be somebody, or else my brain's in a bad state,' returned
Ericson.


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