“Oh, yes. That is good,” said Mrs. Marcusi. “My man did no wrong. They take him away——”
“But you’ll see them bring him back again,” interrupted Babs, unwilling to let even Mrs. Marcusi talk of their trouble. “You have a splendid boy in Nicky,” she attested fondly.
“A very good boy. He tells me how good you are——”
“Oh, say, Mother,” objected the boy. “That’s no good.” (He meant the compliments, of course.) “They want to know about Ben, don’t you?” Nicky was wiser than he realized.
“He does such beautiful work,” began Cara immediately introducing that interesting subject.
“Vera fine. He could sell many pieces but he’s afraid. So Nicky take it to you,” the mother explained. “When he’s well he can make plenty of money.” She had wonderful brown eyes like Vicky’s, and her hair fell about her face as in the Madonna’s pictures. Both Babs and Cara looked at her in admiration, and wondered how it was that some women were so beautifully brave.
Dr. Hale was emerging from the tent now, and his face, as well as the smile that was spread over Benato’s, told the good news before a word was spoken.
“Sound as a dollar,” said the doctor. “No trouble here at all.” He swept his hand across the young man’s chest. “And this fresh air out here is the very thing.” He was talking to Mrs. Marcusi now. “This is good for all of you. Where ever did you get those?” he asked Nicky, indicating the maimed automobiles being used as the family quarters.
“We have a friend who keeps a graveyard,” said the boy. “You know, they call them dead ones and they take all the good parts out. He gave us the tops and—” (he turned to Babs sharply) “that was what I had to have the five dollars for. To buy the canvas for Ben’s tent. He had to have it,” he insisted, apparently happy that Barbara, his friend, could understand at last about that trying complication.
“We could get you lots of orders for carved pieces,” Cara told Benato, “if you could make them up.” She had not addressed him directly before, and seemed a little embarrassed at doing so now.