Lena May thought the plan a good one and Ralph was told to be at the Pensinger mansion in one-half hour with the car and they would all be ready and waiting for him.
Lena May then departed to the rickety tenement to get the wee lad.
“Oh, Mrs. Wilovich,” the girl said, as she looked about the small, hot room. “How I do wish that you would go with us today. Don’t you feel strong enough?”
“No, dearie, thanks though. The coughin’ spell was harder’n usual this mornin’. ’Twas all as I could do to get Tony’s breakfast. I’ll be that happy knowin’ as the little fellow’s seein’ the monkeys his heart’s been set on ever since the picture posters was up on the fences.”
Five minutes later the girl and the little boy were joined by the young bookseller on Seventy-eighth Street.
“Dean,” Lena May said sadly, “I don’t believe that Mrs. Wilovich will be with us one month from today.”
“Nor do I,” the lad replied; then he added, as he looked at the curly-headed three-year-old, who had darted ahead but who looked back, laughing at them, “What will become of Tony?”
“I’m going to keep him, somehow. Gloria has given her permission. I wanted to be sure that Sister thought my plan wise that I might know just what to say to the little mother when she speaks of it to me, as she will in time.”
No wonder was it that the lad’s unspoken love for the girl took unto itself the qualities of adoration. “She is too sweet and too good to be loved by a useless man such as I am,” he thought, and how he wished that his muscle-bound arm might be freed that he could work and fight the world for this angel of a girl. A surgeon had once told him that there was really nothing wrong with his arm. It had grown with the passing years, but was stiffened from long disuse.
Tony was wildly excited when he saw the big green car in which he was to ride for the first time in his short life, and he entertained them all with his chatter.