Zacky ran off in great excitement, and soon Mus’ Beatup came lumbering in, very red after planting potatoes.
“Wot’s all this, mother?—another of those hemmed telegrams?”
“Yes, and I reckon Tom’s killed this time.”
“Can’t be—we only got a letter last night.”
“Ivy says they taake four days to come over. He may have bin killed this mornun—got a shell in his stomach lik Viner’s poor young boy.”
“Maybe it’s to say he’s coming hoame,” said Zacky.
“Shurrup!” growled his father.
He tore the envelope, with a queer twitching of the corners of his mouth.
“He aun’t killed,” he said shakily—“only wounded.”