“Never mind. I’ll turn Baal loose and let him find something outside. A likely supper of tin cans and old shoes’ll set him up to a T. Scoot, Baal!”
The goat was glad enough to go, apparently, yet in a moment came bleating back to his master. Dorothy thought that was pathetic but Robin declared it disgusting.
“Clear out, you old heathen, and hunt your supper—”
“Oh! don’t be cruel to the loving creature, Robin! Suppose he should get lost?” begged Dorothy.
“Lost? You can’t lose Baal, don’t you fret. Look-a-here, boy! here’s a sandwich! Come from the best place in town. I know it. Give the biggest slice for the least money. Can’t tell me anything about that, for I’ve been nigh starved myself too often in this same old town. What? You don’t want it? Can’t eat it? Then what do you want?”
Provoked that his efforts to please Jack failed so fully, Robin whistled again, but not at all merrily this time; for he had at last begun to think of his own predicament and Dorothy’s. Here they were stranded in town, Oak Knowe so far away, night fast falling and, doubtless, a stern reprimand due—should they ever reach that happy haven again.
“Robin, I do believe he is sick. Real, terrible sick. It wasn’t just starving ailed him. Do you s’pose we could get a doctor to him?”
“To this shanty? No, I don’t. But if he’s sick, there’s hospitals. Slathers of ’em. Hurray! There’s the one that Dr. Winston is head of. There’s an emergency ward there and free ones—and it’s the very checker!”
Jack had ceased moaning and lay very still. So still that they were both frightened and Dolly asked:
“How can we get him there, if they would take him in? He’s terrible heavy to carry.”