"What was it, father?" Jimmy's large eyes were fixed eagerly on his father's face.
"If you had died, my son, Daniel would have been a murderer."
"Did he know it?" gasped Jimmy; "Was he afraid I'd die?"
"His father came to me almost heart-broken. He supposed I should be very angry, and that I should have his son committed to prison. He came here of his own accord, and told me what Daniel had done, and promised to keep guard over him that he shouldn't run away, until we could see what the result would be.
"He came every day to inquire, though not always to the house, and told me Daniel could scarcely eat or sleep; that he was crying all the time. He asked me at last what I intended to do with his son?"
"Oh, father!" sobbed the sick boy. "I'm so sorry." He covered his face and great tears rolled down his cheeks. Presently he said, "I've been thinking a great deal about Daniel. I knew he'd be sorry; but I didn't think he'd feel so very bad. You know I had been wicked as well as he. I meant to write him a letter as soon as I got out of bed and ask mother to send it. Don't you think I could write it now?"
"Your mother knows best whether you are strong enough. Mr. Crawson confessed that if it were his son who was hit such a cruel blow, he would have gone to the full extent of the law to have the guilty one punished. What do you think as a Christian man I ought to have said to him, when he asked me what I should do?"
Jimmy started up in bed in great excitement.
"Oh, I want to see Daniel," he cried, "I do! I do!"
"What for, Jimmy?"