Here he remained until he heard the doctor's step in the hall, when he withdrew to the shadow of the curtain, dreading yet longing to hear his words. How his heart leaped with joy to know that Pat might live, though a cripple. His dear, dashing, frolicksome Pat a cripple!
All night long Johnnie sat with his eyes on the pallid young face. He was trying to think out some plan for helping him. A firm, happy look dawned on his grave, thoughtful face. He seemed to have solved a part of his hard problem.
Toward morning Pat opened his eyes and looked around in a dazed sort of way. He tried to rise, but was too weak. Slowly he recalled the accident, the pain, and the darkness. What came then? Looking around in a helpless, wistful manner, he saw Johnnie's big eyes shining on him through falling tears. He moved his left hand around to find the right one. Alas! it was gone. Turning his face to the wall, the hot tears slipped quickly down from his closed eyes.
It was a long day for the boys, Johnnie at his toilsome labor in the factory, and Pat at home thinking, thinking, thinking, trying to find some gleam of brightness, some way of self-help in the future.
Going home that night Johnnie bought an orange and a picture for his friend. He endeavored to be more than usually cheerful in his manner that evening. Pat was trying too, but it was such a faint smile that he gave that Johnnie had hard work to keep back the tears.
"But I did," he triumphantly said to his aunt. "I never mean to make Pat feel badly any more if I can help it. Oh, auntie"—this very eagerly—"may I let Pat take my money and go to school? I can wait a little longer, and Pat will help me in the evenings."
His aunt touched his sunshiny head tenderly. "You know best, my dear boy. It is your money. Use it to satisfy your own heart."
It was some time before Pat was well again, but after the first few days' struggle he never murmured. He seemed to accept and make the best of his circumstances. Every evening Johnnie remembered to bring him some token of his love—a banana, a paper, a bunch of gay flowers, or a box of bonbons; for his money was now all for Pat—his dear helpless Pat.
At last the eventful day arrived when Pat was to be up and dressed. Johnnie started home with more than usual speed, eager to see and congratulate him.
He had frequently noticed boys playing near and on a small tank used for mixing paint. They used to stir this, and inhale the fumes, which gave them a kind of half-dizzy but pleasant kind of feeling. It was rather a dangerous play, and Johnnie usually coaxed the boys away, and endeavored to persuade them not to return. As he was passing the tank this evening he saw two little boys leaning over it, and just at that moment one of them fell face downward into the tank; the other little boy sank down upon the steps, too much stupefied to render any assistance. Dropping his pail, Johnnie sprang up the steps, and into the tank. There was only a small quantity of liquid in it, but quite enough to cover the unconscious boy. Johnnie lifted him up, and called loudly for help. It soon came, for there were others who had seen the boy fall, though too far away to render the assistance that Johnnie did. For some time it was feared that the little victim would not revive.