“Can’t I go, too, Doctor? Can’t I?” begged the little boy.
“Why, that’s a pretty way to talk,” replied the doctor. “Don’t you like us?”
“Oh, sure,” said Ibee, “but the fellows miss me a lot, you know.”
“Why, what will your poor father do without any of you?” teased Doctor Quickenquack, who happened to be passing.
“Oh, I’ll come see him every day,” said Ibee. “He’ll love to hear all about home. Can’t I go?”
“We’ll think it over,” said Doctor Quickenquack.
“And if we do decide to let you go,” added Doctor Surecure, “you must promise not to try to take off your bandage.”
“Oh, I promise,” said Ibee. “Doctor Quickenquack said that if I let my arm be in it long enough, I’d be able to play baseball again: and besides, I want to show it to the fellows.”
“But you’ll not pitch ball for some time to come, young man,” laughed the doctor.
So Mrs. Brave and the children were soon in their own home, leaving poor Mr. Brave in the hospital. By the time Mr. Brave was able to return, walking with a crutch, they had formed three first-aid classes. Mrs. Brave’s was for grown-up ladies, and of this Shesa was a member. Shesa herself, with Soami and Ibee’s help, had formed two others; one for Boy Scouts, and one for Camp Fire Girls.