Hal nodded, and went a little faster, breathing short with the effort.
"Was it an accident?" inquired Dick; "or were you born so?"
"It came on when I began to walk," answered Hal; "at least, so I'm told. Of course, I don't remember being any different."
He didn't seem to mind talking about it, which Dick thought very sensible. "Where would be the use of minding?" said he to himself. "It wouldn't alter the fact." He little knew the effort it cost Hal to put his injured pride on one side.
"What are the irons for?" asked Dick next.
"To stretch this leg," answered Hal, nodding to the right. "That one was the worst; and the sinews shrank—just like a wet string. It's pulled out tight all the while, to try and stretch it longer."
"Don't it make it ache?" asked Dick.
"Sometimes," assented Hal.
He might with truth have said, "most of the time;" but Hal was a bit of a hero in his way. "I'm used to it, you see," he added patiently.
"I shouldn't like to be like that," said Dick.