Abe Lincoln at Last!: A Merlin Mission

all by hand.”
    “Wow,” said Annie.
    Sam poured the corn kernels into a funnel over the barrel. Then he hitched his old horse to leather straps attached to the metal rods.
    Jack and Annie stood to the side and watched Sam walk his horse around in a circle. After a while, Jack grew impatient. The corn grinding seemed to be taking forever. Before he could say anything, though, a gust of wind came up and the horse reared.
    “Keep moving, girl!” said Sam.
    The horse neighed and tossed her head.
    “Go on, girl! Giddyup!” said Sam. He slapped her backside. “Giddyup, I said!”
    The horse didn’t budge.
    “These nice folks are waitin’ on us!” said Sam. He pushed the horse from behind.
    The wind picked up, tossing dead leaves intothe air. The horse neighed again, then kicked out with her hind foot. Her hoof hit Sam in the head! His coonskin cap flew off as he fell backward and sprawled across the ground.
    “Sam!” cried Annie.
    Annie and Jack knelt in the dirt beside the boy.A trickle of blood ran down the side of his head. His eyes were closed.
    “Sam?” said Annie. “Can you hear me?” She wiped the blood with her apron.
    Sam didn’t answer or open his eyes.
    “Hey, Sam!” Jack said loudly. “Wake up!”
    But Sam didn’t move. He didn’t even seem to be breathing.
    Jack and Annie looked at each other.
    “Is he dead?” whispered Annie.

CHAPTER SEVEN
Sam’s Farm
    “I don’t know,” said Jack. This was one of the worst things that had ever happened. He pressed his finger against Sam’s wrist to feel for his pulse, like he’d seen on TV and in movies.
    Sam’s eyes opened. “Giddyup,” he said weakly.
    Jack laughed with relief. “Whew, we were afraid you were dead!” he said.
    “Ain’t dead yet,” Sam whispered, blinking, “but I am seeing stars and my ears are ringing.”
    “Does your head hurt?” asked Annie.
    “Yes, bad,” Sam said quietly, his eyes squinting with pain.
    “You might have a concussion,” Jack said. “Is there a doctor nearby?”
    “Thirty-five …,” said Sam.
    “Minutes?” asked Jack.
    “Miles,” Sam whispered.
    “Whoa, that’s really far,” said Annie.
    “I have to go home … to our farm,” said Sam. He struggled to sit up.
    “Careful,” said Jack. He couldn’t remember what to do if someone had a concussion.
    With Jack and Annie’s help, Sam managed to get on his feet. “Thanks,” the boy said. He staggered toward his horse, then swayed and collapsed onto the ground again.
    “Sam!” said Annie. She and Jack gently helped him back up to a standing position.
    “Dizzy … just dizzy,” whispered Sam.
    “We’ll help you get home,” said Annie. “You can’t do it by yourself. Right, Jack?”
    “Right,” said Jack. He knew it was the right thing to do.
But as soon as we get him home to his parents, we have to find Abraham Lincoln
, he thought.
    “Sam can sit in front of me and I’ll hold on to him,” Annie said to Jack. “You can take the reins and walk alongside us.”
    “Okay.” Jack kept holding Sam, while Annie unhitched the straps, freeing the horse.
    The wind had died down. The horse was calm as Annie coaxed her to a tree stump. She climbed onto the stump and then onto the horse’s back.
    “Your turn, Sam,” said Jack.
    Jack held Sam’s elbow as the gangly boy climbed onto the stump. Then Sam hauled himself onto the horse in front of Annie. He started to slump forward. Before he could slide off, Annie grabbed him and held him up.
    “Got him?” said Jack.
    “My cornmeal,” Sam whispered.
    “I’ll get it,” said Jack. He found a panel in thebottom of the grinder and opened it. Then he grabbed the empty sack and scooped the ground corn inside.
    Jack slung the sack over his shoulder. Then he picked up the reins and turned the horse around. Annie held Sam as Jack led the horse along the lonely road back the way they had come.
    This isn’t the way things are supposed to happen
, Jack thought. He knew they were supposed to trust the magic. But now they were helping the person who was supposed to help
them
.
    “Where is your farm, Sam?” Jack asked after a while.
    The boy didn’t answer.
    “Sam!” said Annie, giving him a little shake. “Your farm? Where is it?”
    Sam opened his eyes. “Here,” he said.
    Jack didn’t see any sign of a farm. The only things up ahead were a small, windowless log cabin and a shed. A curl of smoke rose into the white sky.
    “Here
where
?” asked Jack.
    Sam pointed to