Doodles sat up, and bent forward, listening. The sound of hurrying feet was on the stairs. More than one pair were coming up.
The door swung open, and in dashed Blue, followed by a boy somewhat taller than himself.
“Mother, this is Joseph Sitnitsky. He’s goin’ to help me carry Doodles to church.”
Mrs. Stickney shook hands with the somewhat bashful Joseph, expressing a gracious welcome. Then Blue hastened him over to the window.
“Oh! you are the one who sent me that apple, aren’t you?” smiled Doodles, extending a cordial little hand. “It was a lovely apple! We all had some of it—even Caruso!”
A soft whistle sent Joseph’s eyes to the mocking bird, and his face brightened with surprise and pleasure.
“That him?” he exclaimed.
“Same old feller!” laughed Blue. “Wouldn’t—”
The tolling bells recalled his thoughts to the urgent business on hand.
“Gracious! but we must hurry!” he cried. “Where’s yer cap, kiddie?”