“Then that’s settled,” I interrupted. “You admit you can put him on his feet, therefore you’ve got to do it. Your word?”
“My word,” he said solemnly, and went to work.
Miss Baldwin was waiting for me as I came from Chanler’s stateroom.
“I saw you just as you went in,” she said. “Well?”
“He’s sleeping now,” I replied. “He’ll be all right—or, at least better—when he wakes. George will straighten up.”
She looked at me in that wonderful quiet way of hers.
“Are you so loyal to all your friends, Mr. Pitt?” she said.
“George will straighten up,” I repeated. “He is in Dr. Olson’s hands. He will make amends when he is himself again.”
She turned away, a wistful—perhaps bitter—smile faintly touching her lips.
“Miss Baldwin!” I cried apologetically. “Have I said anything to hurt you, to give you pain?”