The suffering man moved uneasily and groaned.
"Father, I'm so sorry as you're hurt. Don't you know your little Cherry?"
"Dickie, Dickie!" said the man despairingly.
"Do you want Dickie?" asked Cherry, trembling.
"No, no, no; only I wish he hadn't been hurt. Dickie, Dickie!"
"Father," said Cherry, gathering courage from Jem's eyes, "father, you know as I and Dickie pray to the Lord Jesus?"
The miserable man seemed to be listening.
"Well, father, we asked Him to find some one to take care of Dickie, and—"
"They'll have him again," broke in the man. "I said as I'd give 'im over to 'em, and they'll hold to 'im. It ain't a bit o' use. Oh, I can't talk to yer. Oh, my dreadful pain! To think Dickie should ever suffer like this; and I took no heed of it when I might."
"But, father," said Cherry, restraining her tears by a violent effort, "there's stronger than them as has Dickie in hand. Don't ye see that Jesus is stronger than them?"