"Why, he isn't there!" breathed Ralph in some alarm, and ran around to the entrance by the kitchen door.
At its threshold Ralph paused, enchained by the unexpected picture there disclosed to his view.
The injured boy stood at the sink. He had found and tied about his waist a work apron belonging to Mrs. Fairbanks. Before him was the dishpan half-full of water, and he had washed and wiped neatly and quickly the dishes from the tray.
He arranged the various articles in their respective drawers and shelves, stood back viewing them with satisfaction, removed the apron, carefully hung it up, and went to the open back door leading into the wood shed.
Ralph's alarm for fear that his guest had wandered off or might do himself a mischief, gave place to pleased interest.
It looked as if the strange boy had been used to some methodical features of domestic life, and habit was fitting him readily and comfortably into the groove in which he found himself.
Ralph decided that he would not startle or disturb the stranger, but would watch to see what he did next.
The boy glanced towards the wood box behind the cook stove. In the hurry of the past twenty-four hours Ralph had not found time to keep it as well filled as usual.
His guest evidently observed this, went into the wood shed, seated himself on the chopping log, and seizing the short handled ax there, began chopping the sawed lengths piled near at hand with a pleased, hearty good will.
Mrs. Fairbanks, disturbed by the sound of chopping, had awakened, and with some trepidation came hurrying from the sitting room, anxiously seeking to learn what had become of their guest.