This speech was very amusing to Grant Jones; and he assured the injured boy that he himself was not going over to Dillon for perhaps a week, by which time if he were attentive to the instructions of the doctor he probably would be able to accompany him.
“I’ll take you over,” said Grant, “and we’ll batch it together so far as a place to sleep is concerned in the printing office. There is a good boarding house just across the street where you can get your meals.”
“Who’s goin’ ter pay for them?” asked Scotty. “I ain’t got any money.”
“That,” said Roderick, “is what Major Buell Hampton is going to do for you. Not only will he pay your board for one year until your work is worth wages in the printing office, but he will also get you some new clothes and a new pair of shoes and rig you out in good shape, old man.”
“Gee, but you’re good to me, Major Hampton, and Warfield too. Yer ought ter cuff my ears instead uv bein’ so all-fired kind.”
With this the loveless boy turned towards the wall and covered his face. Both Major Hampton and Grant, as well as Roderick, were noticeably affected, and the three walked over toward the window while Scotty was collecting himself.
“I say,” said Grant, sotto voce, “in the language of Jim Rankin, the worst that poor little devil will get—if he goes with me—will be the best of it.”
Then the visitors turned round to say good-by. The invalid had had about enough excitement for one day.
Just as they were departing, Scotty beckoned Roderick to his side.
“Stop a minute or two with me—alone,” he whispered. “I wants ter tell you somethin’.”