The doctor, when he came, commended Elsie for muffling the knocker. "Your brother has gone to sleep at last, I suppose, and everything will depend upon him not being disturbed," he added, for he knew that Elsie would be able to secure quiet in the house better than any one else, as she had charge of the little ones.
That anxious day passed slowly enough to the watcher; but Tom slept on, and his breathing grew more regular as the hours went on.
At dinner time, Elsie took Jack some bread and cheese, and asked him to stay and watch for the organ men. "Mother has been downstairs, and she thinks Tom looks a little better already," said Elsie, "and she told me to thank you for the straw, and what you have done for us this morning."
"I only wish I could do ever so much more. No, thank you, I am not hungry, and I can't eat all that bread and cheese. I'll just have a little bit, to save me going home, for I daresay if I went, there'd be a jolly row in the street," said Jack, with a touch of pride, as he looked round.
"The organ men would be bad for Tom now," said Elsie.
"Yes, and there'd be one at each side of the house, if I was to go away," said Jack.
As he spoke, a party of boys, on their way from school, turned into the street, in the midst of a noisy argument, that seemed to involve a good deal of shouting.
Out darted Jack from the gateway, and between coaxing and threats, he managed to quiet the disputants, much to Elsie's delight and amusement.
"I don't know what we should do without you to-day," she said, when he came back to take the bread and cheese. "If you have done us a good deal of mischief, I believe you are sorry for it now," she added frankly.
"I am, I am!" said the boy; and he drew his coat sleeve across his eyes and turned aside his head, for he would not like to let a girl see him cry, and he could not keep the tears out of his eyes just then.