Part 63

"Well, now I'm going to send every one out of the room," announced Dr. Pennell, authoritatively. "Hurry now!" he clapped his hands and laughed.

Old Mr. King sat quite still, fully determined not to obey. But the doctor, looking over him fixedly, seemed to expect him to leave; and although he still had that pleasant smile, he didn't exactly give the impression that his medical authority could be tampered with. So the old gentleman found himself outside the door.

"And now, we must find Joel," Polly was saying to Jasper.

XVIII TOM'S STORY

Joel had no cause to complain now that Tom Beresford did not stick to him, for there he was hanging over him as he crouched into as small a heap as possible into a corner of Mamsie's sofa.

And there he had been ever since Joel had rushed in with Dr. Pennell; when, not daring to trust himself up in Ben's room, he had dashed for refuge to Mamsie's old sofa.

Tom had not wasted many words, feeling sure under similar circumstances he shouldn't like to be talked to; but he had occasionally patted Joel's stubby head in a way not to be misunderstood, and once in a while Joel thrust out a brown hand which Tom had gripped fast.

"It's all right, old boy, I verily believe," Tom cried with sudden energy, "so brace up; what's the use of your going to pieces, anyway?"

"It's Phronsie," gasped Joel, and burrowing deeper into the cushion.

"Well, I know it," said Tom, gulping down his sorrow, for he had petted Phronsie a good deal; so he was feeling the blow quite sharply himself, "but you won't help matters along any, I tell you, by collapsing."

"Go out into the hall, will you, Tom," begged Joel, huddling down, unwilling to listen himself, "and see if you can hear anything."

So Tom skipping out into the wide upper hall, thankful for any action, but dreading the errand, stole to the foot of the stairs, and craned his ear to catch the faintest sound from above.

There was only a little murmur, for Dr. Pennell was in the midst of operations, and not enough to report. Thankful that it was no worse, Tom skipped back. "All's quiet along the Potomac."

"Ugh!" exclaimed Joel, burrowing deeper. Suddenly he threw himself up straight and regarded Tom out of flashing eyes. "I've killed Phronsie," he cried huskily, "and you know it, and won't tell me!"

"Joel Pepper!" cried Tom, frightened half out of his wits, and rushing to him; "lie down again," laying a firm hand on his shoulder.

"I won't," roared Joel wildly, and shaking him off. "You're keeping something from me, Tom."

"You're an idiot," declared Tom, thinking it quite time to be high-handed, "a first-class, howling idiot, Pepper, to act so. If you don't believe me, when I say I haven't anything to keep back from you, I'll go straight upstairs. Some one will tell me."

"Hurry along," cried Joel feverishly. But Tom had gotten no further than the hall, when Joel howled, "Come back, Tom, I'll try--to--to bear it." And Tom flying back, Joel was buried as far as his face went, in Mamsie's cushion, sobbing as if his heart would break.

"It will disturb--them," he said gustily, in between his sobs.

Tom Beresford let him cry on, and thrust his hands in his pockets, to stalk up and down the room. He longed to whistle, to give vent to his feelings; but concluding that wouldn't be understood, but be considered heartless, he held himself in check, and counted the slow minutes, for this was deadly tiresome, and beginning to get on his nerves. "I shall screech myself before long, I'm afraid."

At last Joel rolled over. "Come here, do, Tom," and when Tom got there, glad enough to be of use, Joel pulled him down beside the sofa, and gripped him as only Joel could. "Do you mind, Tom? I want to hang on to something."

"No, indeed," said Tom heartily, vastly pleased, although he was nearly choked. "Now you're behaving better." He patted him on the back. "Hark, Joe! The doctor's laughing!"

They could hear it distinctly now, and as long as he lived, Joel thought, he never heard a sweeter sound. He sprang to his feet, upsetting Tom, who rolled over on his back to the floor.

Just then in rushed Polly and Jasper, surrounding him, and in a minute, "Oh, is Tom sick?"

"No," said Tom, picking himself up grimly, "only Joe's floored me, he was so glad to hear the doctor laugh."

"Oh, you poor, poor boy!" Polly was mothering Joel now, just as Mamsie would have done; and Tom looking on with all his eyes, as he thought of his own home, with neither mother nor sister, didn't hear Jasper at first. So Jasper pulled his arm.

"See here, Beresford, you and I will go down to the library, I think."

"All right," said Tom, allowing himself to be led off, though he would much have preferred remaining.