“Oh, he’s dead! he’s dead!”
But in a moment, to her relief, his eyes opened, and he murmured, “Polly!”
A physician, driving up to the hospital entrance, took the boy in his arms, and carried him inside.
The office was empty, but presently Dr. Dudley returned to find a patient on his couch, and Polly acting as nurse.
“Daddy’s gone away,” the lad explained, “and he sent word to have me come right up here and see you. I’ve got a letter”—fumbling for the inner pocket of his coat. Finally, with Polly’s help, he brought forth a closely sealed envelope directed to Dr. Dudley.
The physician laid it aside until his patient could be made more comfortable, and at once administered a light restorative.
Chris had not been well for a good while, he admitted, and had been separated from “daddy” much of the time since leaving Fair Harbor. In the brief little note that had come to him, his father had not said where he was going, but as business would be likely to keep him away for some months he directed him to come to Dr. Dudley and deliver the letter in person.
“Yes, we will have him up in the convalescent ward,” the physician replied, in response to Polly’s question, and he stepped to the telephone, to order a bed prepared for him at once.
Polly saw a shadow of anxiety on the pale little face, and began to reassure him.