Kitty almost ran into Brad as she came from the telephone.
“What’s wrong, Kit?” he asked, seeing the misery in her face.
“Billy’s sick. I must go home at once.”
“I’ll borrow Bud Wilson’s car and take you,” he said.
“Thanks. That will help lots. I have to tell Mrs. Evans I’m going, and get my coat.”
Brad was waiting near the kitchen door when she came out, his friend’s car keys dangling on his finger.
“I really shouldn’t have left him tonight,” Kitty said contritely as she jumped into the car. “Jane told me he was cross all day. He’s always cross before he gets sick.”
Brad wasted no time in driving the five blocks to the house. He went in with Kitty to see if there was anything he could do. Jane had heard them coming and was already at the door to let them in when they crossed the porch.
“How is he?” asked Kitty.
“Reckon he mighty sick, Miss Kit.”