“Phin says you’re afraid of pneumonia,” said Hansel as they rattled up the village street.
“Looks like it now, but she may fool us,” was the cheerful response. “If she had enough vitality to keep a mouse alive I wouldn’t worry. Look here, are you a friend of theirs?”
“Yes,” answered Hansel.
“All right; then I’m not telling secrets, I guess. She’s young Dorr’s mother; knew that, didn’t you? She married again after his father died, and from what I gather the second marriage didn’t turn out very well; present husband’s still alive, I believe. Fact of the matter is, they’re too poor to buy decent food; they’re both of ’em just about half starved. I had a dickens of a time trying to get her to take white of egg; she said eggs were very dear, and thought something else might do. The boy seems awfully fond of her, and he’s nursed her right along for three days, but it seems to me he’d better leave school and find some work, so he can take care of her. Here we are. How’s that? Wait to see— Oh, all right; I’ll be out in ten minutes, I guess, and I’ll tell you how she is.”
Hansel turned up the street and walked as far as the first corner, keeping an eye on the little white gate for fear Dr. Gordon would escape him. And as he strolled along his mind was very busy. When, finally, the doctor reappeared, Hansel hurried up to him.
“Which way are you going, sir?” he asked.
“Down to the other side of town, across the railroad. Why?”
“May I go along? I’d like to speak to you.”
“All right, my boy; in you go.” When the buggy had turned, scraping, and was again headed toward the railroad, Dr. Gordon observed Hansel with frank interest. “You’re one of the academy boys, I suppose?”
“Yes, sir.”