Tode leaned
over and looked at the little face. It was a pitiful little face--so
white and thin, with sunken eyes and blue lips--so pitiful that it
touched even Tode's heart, that was not easily touched.
"The ol' woman after ye?" he asked, springing down from the barrel.
"Yes, yes! Oh, do help me," pleaded the girl, the tears running down
her cheeks as she gazed at the baby face. "I'm afraid he's going to
die."
The boy cast a quick glance about him.
"Here!" he exclaimed, "squat down an' I'll turn this over ye."
He seized a big empty barrel that stood near. Without a word the girl
slipped to the ground and he turned the barrel over her, kicking under
the edge a bit of wood to give air. The next moment he stooped down to
the opening and whispered,
"Hi! The ol' lady's a comin'. Don't ye peep. I'll fix her!"
Then he reseated himself again on the barrelhead and began to drum and
whistle as before, apparently paying no heed to the woman who came
along scolding and swearing, with half a dozen street children
following at her heels. She came nearer and nearer but Tode drummed on
and whistled unconcernedly until she stopped before him and exclaimed
harshly,
"You boy--have you seen a girl go by here, with a baby?"
"Nope," replied Tode, briefly.
"How long you be'n settin' here?"
"'Bout two weeks," answered the boy, gravely.
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