"Wal, I snum!" exclaimed Uncle Jason, still staring at the bit of paper, which was a Wells-Fargo express check for the sum named.
Janice could scarcely eat any dinner, she was so excited. What was mere eating to the possession of this check and the knowledge that all was going well once more with dear Daddy? Her most particular friends must share the joy with her.
She hurried into her jacket and hat, and ran across town to see Miss 'Rill; for, after all, the little spinster was her dearest and closest friend in Poketown.
But was this Miss 'Rill—this frantic, wild-eyed creature, hatless and with her hair flying, who came running down High Street just as Janice reached the corner of the street on which Hopewell Drugg's store was situated? Could it be 'Rill Scattergood?
"Oh, Janice! Janice! have you heard about it? They just sent for me," gasped the little spinster lady.
"What do you mean, 'Rill? Who sent for you?" Janice demanded.
"It's poor little Lottie!" cried the other, dragging Janice along with her. "She's fallen. I've been expecting it. She moves so quickly, you know, in spite of her blindness. And now she's fallen into the cellar——"
"Whose cellar? Oh! is she very, very badly hurt?" cried Janice, equally anxious.
"Hopewell had the trap door open. She came running into the shop and went straight down on her poor little head! Oh! she's all cut and bruised——"
Miss 'Rill could say no more. Nor did Janice need to ask, for they were at the store and pushing through the little group of helpless but sympathizing neighbors. Dr. Poole was already there. They had Lottie in bed, all bandaged and white.