Telemac Kalisch then drew forth one of the small brown pellets and put it between the boy’s lips.
“It’s not an opiate, Doctor?” asked one of the men uneasily.
Mr. Kalisch shook his head without taking his eyes off the boy’s.
“You feel better already, eh? The blood is coming back to your face.”
“I do feel better,” replied Arthur. “I think I’ll go in now, Bobbie.”
“Shall I carry you?” asked the young man called Bobbie.
“No, I’ll walk,” said the child starting down the deck and then turning back. “Thank you, Telemac,” he called. “I like you very much. Don’t forget—after lunch.”
There was an air of authority about the child that was as pathetic as it was amusing, as he moved away.
“Poor little man!” exclaimed Telemac Kalisch. “Poor little fellow!”
“The suggestion pellet, again,” thought Billie, smiling slightly. “Was he really ill?” she asked aloud.