Dorothy opened her eyes again to find herself in a bed whose softness and cleanliness meant untold luxury to her. Her body ached all over, horribly, and her head ached too.
She closed her eyes, but there was a movement beside the bed that made her open them again swiftly. Somebody had coughed, and it had sounded like Joe.
She turned over slowly, discovering new aches and pains as she did so, and saw that it was indeed Joe sitting there, his eyes fixed hungrily upon her.
She opened her arms and he ran to her and knelt beside the bed.
“Aw, now, don’t go to crying, Sis,” he said, patting her shoulder awkwardly. “They said if I bothered you they wouldn’t let me stay.”
“I’d like to see them get you away,” cried Dorothy. “Joe, sit back a little bit and let me look at you. I can’t believe it’s you!”
“But I did an awful thing, Dot,” he said, hanging his head. “You’d better let me tell you about it before you get too glad I’m back.”
“Tell me about it then, dear,” said Dorothy quietly. “I’ve been wanting to know just why you ran away.”
“It was all because of the fire at Haskell’s toy store,” said Joe, speaking swiftly, as though he would be glad to get the explanation over. “Jack Popella said the explosion was all my fault and he told me I would be put in prison——”
“But just what did you do?” Dorothy insisted.