Grandmother Dobson watched it until it was half way across the bay; Josh gave a bark so loud and thrilling that the dreaming old lady awoke to the present, and hurried down. There was no one about the house, but Harry was awake and talking.
“I want to tell her all I know about the necklace,” she heard him say.
“Dear me! the poor lad is out of his head, and he hasn’t had the skullcap yet,” she thought. “My fire has gone down, too! Josh, fetch me in a stick of wood,” she said.
Now Josh is a real true dog, and he does bring in wood—not one stick only, but he fills up the wood-box, and always expects to be rewarded at the end of his toil by an extra nice bit to eat.
Josh started at once for the woodpile and returned with a small stick.
“Now, another!” He obeyed.
Meanwhile Harry kept saying, “I must tell about the necklace. Where is she? Won’t you please tell me if she is here?”
Fully believing that the boy was talking in delirium, Mrs. Dobson did not think it worth while to answer.
“She must be deaf,” Harry thought; so, after awhile, he said no more, but tried with his hand to move the bandage, so that he could look about a little. The first thing that his eyes rested upon was a lovely cluster of roses; Kate had left them, but as she thought he could not see, she had said nothing of them.
“Mrs. Dobson!” called Harry as loud as he could call.