Sydney started, for he had been so intent upon his thoughts that he had not heard the regular trot, trot of a plump cob, nor the grinding of wheels, and he looked up to see that it was Doctor Liss who had suddenly drawn rein in the road.
“Going for a walk, Syd?”
“Yes; but—I—Where are you going, doctor?”
“Into the town. Just been called up. Poor fellow injured in the docks last night.”
“Take me with you.”
“What?” cried the doctor, smiling down in the eager face before him. “Didn’t I get scolded enough last night, you young dog, for leading you astray?”
“Oh, but father didn’t mean it. Do take me. Is he much hurt?”
“Broken leg, I hear. No, no. Go home to breakfast. Ck! Sally. Good morning.”
The doctor touched the cob as he nodded to Sydney, and the wheels of the chaise began to turn, but with a bound the boy was out in the road, and hanging on to the back.
“No, no, Doctor Liss, don’t leave me behind. I do so want to go, and there’s plenty of time for me to get back to breakfast.”