A care-worn, pale man made his way amid the throng. He answered quietly that the child was well.
"Well! why, you said last night that it was as bad as it could be, Shepherd! You was going off for the doctor then. Did he come to it?"
"One doctor came, from up there," answered Shepherd, pointing to the sky. "He came, and He took the child."
The words could not be misunderstood, and the room hushed itself in sympathy. "When did the boy die, Shepherd?"
"To-day, at one; and it's a mercy. Death in childhood is better than starvation in manhood."
"Could Dr. Barnes do nothing for him?" inquired a compassionate voice.
"He didn't try; he opened his winder to look out at me—he was undressing to go to bed—and asked whether I had got the money to pay him if he came."
"Hiss—iss—ss!" echoed from the room.
"I answered that I had not; but I would pay him with the very first money that I could scrape together; and I said he might take my word for it, for that had never been broken yet."
"And he would not come?"