“I’ll tell her,” promised Ted. “Is there anything I can do?”
“And me, too!” added Jan quickly. “I’d like to help.”
“Well, I don’t know that there is,” answered Hal slowly. “They’re trying to raise money for the Home, that’s about all I know.”
“We might sell lemonade,” said Jan, thoughtfully.
“I guess they’re going to sell lemonade over at the Home,” explained Hal. “If I hear of anything you can do I’ll let you know.”
Jimmie and Ted, as well as Jan, were eagerly waiting for Hal to come the next day and show them how to fly the tailless kite. He had promised to come right after breakfast, but it was nearly noon when he reached Jimmie’s house, and he hopped along slowly, his face showing that he was in pain.
“What’s the matter?” asked Jan quickly.
“Oh, nothing much,” and he tried to smile. “Dr. Wade played a sort of game of tag with my bad foot this morning, and it—it—um—it sort of—tickles,” he went on. “I don’t mind, though, for it’s the only way to make it straight and better, so I won’t have to limp. There’s lots worse than me. Some of ’em can’t get out of bed after the nurses or doctors give ’em what they call ‘treatment.’ That is they rub or twist the crooked bones. But I’m lucky. I could get over here.”
It must have been painful for him, though he said nothing about it. Hal was a brave little chap.
“Now for the kite!” he cried gaily. “There’s a good wind and it ought to sail up fine!”