"Why not, mamma?"
There was not the slightest trace of irritation in the answering voice, although it was clearly an effort to speak.
"I can't get up this morning, little one."
Mysteries were multiplying, but the small Benjamin was equal to the occasion. With a spring he was out of bed, and in another moment was stepping gingerly upon the cold bare floor.
"I'm going to build a fire for you, mamma," he announced.
The homely mongrel whined a welcome to the little lad's appearance, and with his tail beat a friendly tattoo upon the kennel floor; but the woman spoke no word. With impassive face she watched the shivering little figure as it hurried into its clothes, and then, with celerity born of experience, went about the making of a fire. Suddenly a hitherto unthought-of possibility flashed into the boy's mind, and leaving his work he came back to the bunk.
"Are you sick, mamma?" he asked.
Instantly the woman's face softened.
"Yes, laddie," she answered gently.
Carefully as a nurse, the small protector replaced the cover at his mother's back, where his exit had left a gap; then returned to his work.