It mattered little what happened to him if he could only
save his David, his dear, kind big brother, who would never have thought
of doing wrong had it not been for those wicked men who had led him
astray. Patsy feared those men mightily. He knew their anger would be
terrible should they discover how their plan had been frustrated. They
might even kill him if they found him out, but he hoped they need not
know. He would confess to David alone at supper time that evening; no
matter how angry, David would not hurt his little brother. Of that Patsy
was certain. Anyway, whatever the risk, he must take it to save David
and to save the lady.
The early winter twilight was closing in when Patsy reached his home
again and dragged himself up the stairs to the one room which he and
David occupied. He was almost exhausted and his breath came in short,
sharp gasps which cut him like knives. He would have liked to crawl into
his bed, close his eyes and never open them again, he was so tired. But
he must not give in yet; his task was but half accomplished. David must
be told of what he had done, and at that thought a spasm of fear
contracted his heart. Shivering, he drew a chair near the stove and
waited with closed eyes and pain-drawn face for the sound of David's
foot upon the stairs.
Twilight passed and darkness filled the little room, still David did not
come.
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