On his way to the pasture, Toby met Joe, and the two had a long talk about the disaster of the afternoon. Joe believed that the enterprise must be abandoned—for that summer at least—as it would take them some time to repair the damage done, and his short experience in the business caused him to believe that they could hardly hope to compete with real circuses until they had more material with which to work.
Joe promised to see the other partners that evening or the next morning; and, if they were of the same opinion, the tent should be taken down and returned to its owner.
"Perhaps we can fix it all right next year, an' then Abner will be 'round to help," said Toby, as he parted with Joe that night; and thus was the circus project ended very sensibly, for the chances were that it would have been a failure if they had attempted to give their exhibition.
During that afternoon Toby had worried less about Abner than on any day since he had been sick; he had felt that his friend's recovery was certain, and a load was lifted from his shoulders when he and Joe had decided regarding the circus; for, that out of the way, he could devote all his attention to his sick friend. Surely, with the ponies and the monkey they could have a great deal of sport during the two weeks that yet remained before school would begin, and Toby felt thoroughly happy.
But his happiness was changed to alarm very soon after he entered the house, for the doctor was there again, and, from the look on the faces of Uncle Daniel and Aunt Olive, he knew Abner must be worse.
"What is it, Uncle Dan'l? is Abner any sicker?" he asked, with quivering lip, as he looked up at the wrinkled face that ever wore a kindly look for him.
Uncle Daniel laid his hand affectionately on the head of the boy, whom he had cared for with the tenderness of a father since the day he repented and asked forgiveness for having run away, and his voice trembled as he said:
"It is very likely that the good God will take the crippled boy to Himself to-night, Toby, and there in the heavenly mansions will he find relief from all his pain and infirmities. Then the poor-farm boy will no longer be an orphan or deformed, but, with his Almighty Father, will enter into such joys as we can have no conception of."
"Oh, Uncle Dan'l! must Abner really die?" cried Toby, while the great tears chased each other down his cheeks, and he hid his face on Uncle Daniel's knee.
"He will die here, Toby, boy, but it is simply an awakening into a perfect, glorious life, to which I pray that both you and I may be prepared to go when our Father calls us."