"Remember that mother loves you."
"Oh, my mutter," he answered, "Gott take fine care of you!"
"And God take care of my boy."
He sobbed, and she held him close, brushing at the tousled head. While Balcome paced to and fro on the lawn, and coughed suspiciously, and blinked at the sun. "Say, I've got an idea," he announced. "Listen, young man! Come here."
Gently Sue unclasped the hands that clung about her neck, and turned the tear-stained face to Balcome.
"Up in Buffalo, in my business, I need a boy who knows how to keep his mouth shut. Now when do you escape from this—this asylum?" He swept his hat in a wide circle that included the Rectory.
Pride made Ikey forget his woe. "Oh," he boasted, "I can go venefer I like. You see, my aunt, she only borrows me here."
"Ah! And what do you think of my proposition?"
Ikey meditated. "Vell, I ain't crazy to stay here mit Momsey gone."
Balcome put a hand on his shoulder. "I thought you wouldn't. So suppose we talk this over—eh?—man to man—while we hunt the choirmaster?"