"Perhaps that will answer. He may take a turn for the better. I can tell in a few hours."
Mr. Snowden had a talk with Jimmy, telling him part of what the doctor had said, but not enough to alarm the lad. As he expected, Jimmy at once offered to stay at home and nurse Dick, as he had done once before.
"But what about selling the papers?" asked the manager.
"I can get Sam Schmidt and Frank Merton to look after part of my customers for me. The rest will have to wait until Dick gets well."
This arrangement was carried out, Frank and Sam gladly agreeing to do all in their power to help the two boys. Dick was quite ill, but fortunately nothing very serious developed. His fever still continued, however, and he was too weak to get out of bed, the physician said.
"How long will I have to stay in?" asked Dick.
"At least a week. Perhaps longer. You require nourishing food, and your nerves need quieting. You are not used to this life."
"No," said Dick softly, and again there came to him the troublesome question of what sort a life he was accustomed to, and who he was.
"But you must not worry," cautioned the doctor. "You'll be well taken care of, and in a short time you can go out again."
In a few days Dick was enough better so that he did not need any one with him constantly. Jimmy, therefore, could go out on the streets selling papers, for Mr. Snowden or some of the men employed about the lodging-house looked in Dick's room several times during the day to see if he needed anything.