I opened the door, and there stood my old friend in the familiar goggles and linen duster, but with his left sleeve empty and a new scar on the side of his face.
“Mr. Pearl!” I exclaimed; “what's happened to you?”
“Oh, I've just been trimmed up a little,” he said, with a smile, as he gave me his hand. “It's nothing. Every tree needs it once in a while. I had too much wood for my sap.”
“An accident?” I asked, with tears in my eyes.
“An accident, an' I'm tryin' to forget it,” said he. “How are the folks?”
And I saw clearly that he wished me to say no more of his misfortunes. Soon Mr. McCarthy came, and he and the Pearl went to the shop together.