“You needn't worry, we'll take good care of her here,” said Douglas, seeing desperation written on their faces.
“Here?” They looked at him incredulously.—And this was a parson!
“Where are her parents?” the doctor asked, looking at Jim and Toby.
“She ain't got no parents 'cept Toby an' me,” replied Jim. “We've took care of her ever since she was a baby.”
“Oh, I see,” said the doctor. “Well, one of you'd better stay here until she can be moved.”
“That's the trouble; we can't,” said Toby, hanging his head. “You see, sir, circus folks is like soldiers. No matter what happens, the show has to go on, and we got to be in our places.”
“Well, well, she'll be safe enough, here,” said the doctor. “It is a fortunate thing that Mr. Douglas can manage this. Our town hospital burned down a few months ago, and we've been rather puzzled as to what to do with such cases.” He took his leave with a cheery “Good night,” and a promise to look in upon the little patient later. Jim shuffled awkwardly toward the pastor.
“It's mighty good of you to do this,” he mumbled, “but she ain't goin' to be no charity patient. Me and Toby is goin' to look after her keep.”
“Her wants will be very few,” Douglas answered, kindly. “You needn't trouble much about that.”
“I mean it,” said Jim, savagely. He met Douglas's glance of surprise with a determined look, for he feared that his chance of being useful to Polly might be slipping out of his life.