“And I thank you, too!” said the boy, his voice trembling. “Why, it’s a small fortune! Sometimes we have worked a whole week and not received so much; but I believe luck has turned now, and Nellie will be able to see very soon.”
Frank was deeply touched. Then he regretted the loss of his fortune for the first time, as it made it impossible for him to take charge of the blind girl and see that she had the best medical attention, which he would have done in other days.
“Can’t we do something?” asked the boy, eagerly. “We will sing something more for you.”
He hastily adjusted the guitar, and strummed the strings a moment.
“What shall we sing, Nellie?” he asked.
“Oh, something lively—some happy song,” she answered, still laughing through her tears.
So they sang one of the late popular songs, but the voices of both were uncertain, and it was pathetic to witness the affection and happiness in the boy’s eyes when he looked at his sister.
In the very middle of the song the girl broke down completely and stopped.
“Oh!” she exclaimed; “I can’t sing! Somehow my heart is so full that the words will not come out. But I want to thank you again and again! I want to thank Mr. Merriwell. Where is he?”
But Frank Merriwell was gone. Stirred to the very depths of his soul, he had hurried away while they were singing; and he walked along the city’s streets, unmindful of his surroundings, uplifted, exalted, strengthened for the battle of life.