“Who is he?” Jean asked.
“We don’t even know that. Found him down at the railroad track. Mr. Berger found him as he was driving by and brought him right over.”
Jean gazed down on the dirty, tear-stained face. “He’s so young,” she murmured.
“Not more than ten,” Ted agreed. “He might be a little older, of course. He looks as if he hasn’t had a decent meal in months!” He sighed. “He was brought in in ragged clothes which we had to cut off and burn in the incinerator.”
“Can we bathe him now?” Jean asked, looking at the dirty boy.
“Yes, but be careful. He’s still having some pain,” Ted answered.
By morning, the new patient was resting more easily in fresh, clean garments. His face and body were clean, but his hair was still matted and dirty. He awoke around seven to find Jean sitting by his bed.
“Good morning,” Jean said cheerfully. “Feel better?”
The small boy let forth a stream of profanity.
“Still hurts, eh?” Jean asked. “Well, the worst is over. You’ll feel better from now on.”