“Say—little girl—say that ’gain, will you?” he said, slowly.
Dot quite innocently repeated it. The man carefully removed his hat and looked into it. Then he turned it over and shook it. Nothing, of course, fell to the ground.
“’Tisn’t there. You fooled yourself. I thought so,” muttered the man.
And then he leaned so far over that he dropped the hat in the gutter.
“You must be dreadful sick,” Dot said to him, her little heart touched by his appearance.
“Yes—that’s it. Sick. That’s it,” he mumbled.
This was a really awful adventure for little Dot Kenway.
“I’m going to get you a glass of water,” she said. “Your face is so red. You are sick, I can see.”
He said nothing, but blinked at her. Perhaps he did not at first quite understand. Dot turned to cross the street toward the store on the corner. Then she turned back.
“Will you please hold my Alice-doll while I go for the water?” she asked the man. “Do be very careful with her—please.”