“Oh, don’t wait! it wasn’t I!” gasped the girl. “Don’t you see? I found him in convulsions at their house and I made Jinny bring him on in my car.”
“Hah!” grunted the physician, and strode out to the sidewalk, where a curious little crowd was gathering. One glance at the baby’s face, and he exclaimed:
“Bring him in! Quick, child!”
This awoke the black-haired girl. She hugged the baby to her thin breast and jumped out of the automobile. Dr. Poole hurried her into the office and shut out the prying neighbors. Janice was the only one he allowed to help him—and he found her during the next few minutes a very practical helper, indeed.
“Child! you ought to be a nurse,” he said finally, when he could talk again. “You’re as handy as an old woman, and lots sprier. Now, now! he’s coming out all right. You brought him just in time. Tell me about it.”
Janice told the story, and Virginia never said a word. She was a strange, silent child in the company of adults. But she watched everything that the doctor did for the baby and, without doubt, could repeat all his ministrations herself if little Buddy had another ill turn.
“The old Elder held a watch on you, too?” chuckled the doctor, when he heard the last of Janice’s tale. “That means business, then, Janice. Like enough, they’ll put you in jail for the rest of your natural life. It’s a terrible situation.”
“Don’t make it out worse than it is, please, Doctor,” she begged, with a rather feeble smile. “I am afraid they will make trouble.”
“I know they will!” declared Dr. Poole, with assurance. “But we’ll fix it so they’ll not do it till to-morrow. I’ll drive little sissy here and the baby back to their home. I want to see that Trimmins man, anyway.”
“He ain’t got no money, Pappy hain’t,” here interposed Virginia gruffly.