The Weasel had bitten to the bone.
Crushed and mangled, they lifted the Wolf from the pavement five stories below, and taking him into the hospital once more for a little while, laid him in the chamber of death beside the stretcher where the Weasel rested with that new look in his face. But the nurse who had cared for the Weasel knew the manner of his going, and rolled his stretcher away across the room. She would not let him lie even in death beside the other.
The very next afternoon the telephone rang.
Mrs. Potter and Beany and Asa listened, while Porky said, "Yes, sir," a dozen times and "All right, sir," until Beany twitched with nervous excitement.
When he put up the receiver, everybody said, "Well?" at the same time.
Porky went over and kissed his mother. It was real easy to do, those days. A fellow wanted to kiss his mother.
"Well?" said everybody again.
Timmins hovered in the doorway.
"To-morrow," said Porky with a sort of solemnity.
No one spoke. Then "What time?" said Beany.