"
A fearful fit of coughing racked the little form and David held him
gently in his arms until the paroxysm had passed. Then, laying the boy
back upon the pillows, he said quietly:
"You mustn't get excited, Patsy, it's bad for you. We'll not talk no
more to-night. In the morning I'll tell you the story of the house on
the hill and you'll see I'm not tacklin' this job to please anyone but
myself. Go to sleep now, kid, for I'll not say another word to-night,
not another word."
When David spoke in that tone of voice Patsy knew there was nothing for
him to do but to obey. Turning his face to the wall, he closed his eyes,
but sleep did not visit him that night. He lay listening for the stroke
of the town clock as it sounded, one after another, the slowly dragging
hours; he lay listening to David's regular breathing and wondered how a
man could sleep so calmly with such a deed in prospect; he lay anxiously
turning over in his mind various schemes by which he could frustrate
the plan in case he failed in persuading David to abandon it altogether.
Several times fits of coughing shook him nearly to pieces, and at those
times the pain in his poor little chest was well-nigh unbearable. He
smothered the cough as well as he could beneath the bedclothes for fear
of disturbing David. As for the pain--well, pain and Patsy had been
companions so long now that he had grown quite accustomed to it.
Pages:
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76