Again Bill began to talk. "O, he has 'sand.'"
"I wonder what that means?" asked Mrs. Daly.
Frank shrugged his shoulders.
"But, he's good, too," continued Bill. "That's why he has 'sand.' What a cur I was to put him in bad." Then, after a pause, "Mulvy, never again for me! Straight goods for mine. No more yellow for Bill Daly."
His parents looked at one another. It was all Greek to them. But it had much meaning for Frank. Mr. Daly sat there in deep thought. He was thinking of his early days, his happy home, his fond child. And then came the years after. The broken home, the broken hearts and here now, his dying boy.
"God is punishing me," he thought to himself. "But I wish He would not punish the mother for my sins. O God, spare my boy!"
This last he said out loud. Frank and Mrs. Daly turned suddenly toward him. His voice was choked as he said, "O God, punish me but spare those I love!" Frank's eyes filled as he gazed on the broken man before him.
Again Bill's voice was heard. "Mother, I want Frank. Send for Frank. I want Frank and Father Boone. Dad, we'll never quarrel again. Home will be nice for us all. Mother, mother, mother!" And he lapsed into unconsciousness again.
Frank felt terribly out of place. Twice while Bill was talking, he had started to go, but Mrs. Daly held him. He seemed to be necessary to her now. He was her boy's friend and she wanted him by her. Frank perceived this and he made up his mind to wait as long as he could. After about an hour Father Boone came in.
"I was down near here on a sick call, and I thought I'd just drop in for a moment," he said. "O, you here, Frank? Well now, that's nice, I declare." And he sat down.