“I’ve no call to speak to you, sir. I’ll take care of the boy.”
“Then I shall exercise my right as a father in the presence of these people.”
Before either of the men could speak again, Dannie opened his eyes and looked around him.
“What is it, Gran’pap?” he asked. “What did I do? Where—oh! I remember.”
Then, as his recollection grew more distinct, he exclaimed:—
“I’m not to go to jail, Gran’pap! Did you hear ’em say so? I’m not to go to jail!”
The horrible nightmare of imprisonment that had brooded over his pillow for weeks had suddenly vanished, and he could not contain himself for joy.
“No, Dannie,” replied the old man, gently, “no, not to jail. They’ve no call to punish you. You’ve borne a thousand times too much already. We’ll go home, Dannie. Can you get up? Can you get on your feet? Can you walk? There, that’s it. Hang on to my arm, so! We’ll go home.”
“Father!”