The boys looked at one another, then at me; finally Lester replied, almost with a sob, "Brush is awful sick; he's been raising blood; they sent for the Doctor."
"Where is he? I must go see him," I said, springing over the fence, and starting toward the house.
"He's in that little room next the girls' play-room; but they won't let anybody see him," said Warren.
I went to the room in which Brush lay, and knocked very gently on the door. There was a rustling movement inside, then the door slowly opened and one of the lady teachers stood before me.
"What is it, Frank?" she asked in a low tone.
I tried to look over her shoulder to see the bed, but she was too tall "I want to see Brush; can't I see him? They say he is sick. I want to see him a moment," I pleaded. "I'm just come back from the village, and brought some buffalo meat I promised him."
"No, Frank, you cannot see him," was the reply. "He is very sick. The superintendent is with him trying to relieve his suffering. Run away now," said the lady, stroking my bare head with her small hand. "Don't make any noise, and tell the rest of the boys to be very quiet."
I went away reproaching myself for not coming back from the village soon, as I told Brush I would. When I rejoined the boys, they looked anxiously into my face, and Edwin asked, "Did you see him?"
"No, they would not let me." After a pause, I asked, "When did he get sick; who was with him?"