So Small, by this time convinced that he was an object of pity and interest, took the upturned feed-pail with a sigh and coughed a hollow cough. Kid viewed him anxiously.
“I don’t like the sound of that, Small,” he observed, with a shake of his head. “Does it still hurt you?”
“Not much,” Small replied with an air of Christian fortitude. “Just a little here sometimes.” He laid a mittened hand on his chest. Kid nodded understandingly. It was evident to the rest that in spite of Small’s attempted cheerfulness he was suffering. Nan was deeply affected and was for throwing her ulster about his shoulders. But Small gallantly refused and Bert, remembering seeing a carriage robe in the Doctor’s buggy, fetched it and drew it solicitously about Small’s pathetic form. Small declared that he was quite warm and the meeting got down to business. The president requested information as to the present condition of the fund. Lanny reported fifty cents, Small a quarter, Nan thirty-five cents, Kid nothing and Bert himself a dollar.
“Two dollars and ten cents,” said Nan delightedly. “Why, it won’t take us any time at all to get the money, will it?”
“How much is the mug going to cost?” Lanny inquired.
“We don’t know that,” Bert said. “We’ve got to approve the design first and then send it to someone who makes such things.”
“I move that the design submitted by Small be approved and accepted,” said Lanny.
“Second the motion,” said Kid. Small looked across at him gratefully.