“Who?” asked Jan curiously.
“The boys and girls.”
“Do you mean your brothers and sisters?” inquired Ted. “You must have a large family for such a big house.”
“Family!” cried the lame boy. “Well, yes,” and he smiled. “I guess you could call it a family, for we all live in one home. But they aren’t any of ’em my brothers and sisters.”
“They’re not?” cried Jan. “And yet they live with you?”
“Oh, yes. You see that’s the Crippled Children’s Home over there, and I’ve been in ’most a year trying to get cured,” and he looked at his lame foot. “It’s a lot better,” he went on. “When I first came I couldn’t walk at all. But now I can come farther than any of ’em,” and he seemed quite proud.
“It’s too bad,” said Jan kindly. “Does it—hurt?”
“Not a bit, except when Dr. Wade pulls it and twists it to make it bend easier. That doesn’t hurt but a little while,” and he smiled bravely. “He’s trying to cure me.”
“It’s too bad,” murmured Jan again.
“I—I don’t b’lieve I’d like to be lame, and not run and jump and climb,” said Teddy, looking off toward the Home, and trying not to glance down at Hal’s lame foot.