“Billy!” whispered Lynn, rising from the upper step in the shadow of the church.
The boy turned with a quick silent stride and was beside her:
“I couldn't help it, Miss Lynn, I really couldn't—There was something very important—Cart—That is—Cart needed me! I knew you'd understand.”
“Yes, Billy, I understand. Somehow I knew you were with Mark. It's good to have a friend like you, Billy!” She smiled wanly.
Billy looked up half proud, half ashamed:
“It's nothin'!” said Billy, “I just had to. Cart—well, I had to.”
“I know, Billy—Mark needed you. And Billy,—if there's any trouble—any—any—that is if Mark ever needs you, you'll stick by him I know?”
“Sure!” said Billy looking up with a sudden searching glance, “Sure, I'll stick by him!”
“And if there's anything—anything that ought to be done—why—I mean anything we could do—Billy,—you'll let us know?”
“Sure, I will!” There was utmost comprehension in the firm young voice. Billy kicked his heel softly into the grass by the walk, looking down embarrassedly. He half started on toward the car and then turning back he said suddenly, “Why doncha go see Cherry, Miss Lynn?”