Rod of the Lone Patrol Part 36

"Specialists are expensive people," the captain explained. "I knew a man years ago who went to one, and it cost him more'n that."

"But maybe he won't charge as much for a girl, especially when it's Whyn?" Rod suggested.

"H'm, I guess that won't make any difference. Anyway, we must be prepared, as our motto says. We've got to git more money, that's certain, and how are we to do it?"

There was silence for a few minutes, as the scouts well knew from past experience how hard it was to think of any plan to raise money quickly.

They realised that they could not expect to have such good fortune as they had during the past year. It was Rod who broke the silence.

"I know what we can do," he began. "We can go through the parish, and ask every person to give something. That's what the Ladies' Aid did when they wanted to build that shed for the horses near the church."

"But how would Whyn like that?" the captain asked. "Wouldn't, it seem too, much like beggin'?"

"It would be better, though, than letting her die," Rod insisted.

"Sure, sure," the captain agreed. "But I don't like the idea, fer all that. Let's go home now and think of some other plan. If it comes to the worst, we might have to beg, but not if we kin help it."

CHAPTER XXVII

JIMMY

It took Jimmy Britt many weeks to regain his strength after his serious illness. For a long time he manifested very little interest in what was going on around him. His father and mother wore greatly disappointed and discouraged. He only spoke when spoken to, and spent hours wandering alone along the sh.o.r.e or out in the woods. The scouts annoyed him, and they kept as far from him as possible and he from them. The only conversation he had with his father concerning his past life was the day he spoke about Anna Royanna, and the influence her song had upon him. The captain and Mrs. Britt were afraid that the blow he had received upon his head had somewhat affected his brain, and this caused them considerable worry. The neighbours had already whispered this among themselves, for they had been quick to notice the change which had come over the returned son.

"Look here, Jimmy," his father said that evening after the scouts had left, "I want ye to write a letter fer me. My old hand is so cramped that I kin hardly hold a pen. Ye used to be good at sich work."

"All right," Jimmy replied, rising slowly and bringing down the writing materials from an upper shelf. "Now, fire away; I'm ready."

But the captain hesitated, and was at a loss how to begin. He scratched his head in perplexity.

"Dang it all!" he muttered. "Oh, jist tell him that we have a little sick girl here, who will die if she doesn't git to a specialist in New York, and that I'd like fer him to help out with the expense."

"What are you talking about, dad?" Jimmy asked. "I can't write the letter until you give me the name of the person you want it sent to."

"Oh, didn't I tell ye? Well, that's queer. It's fer my old master, Benjamin Dodge, in the city. He's got the money, and he told me that if I ever needed any help to go to him. I have never bothered him before, and never intended to do so, but this is different. Whyn's life's at stake, and that's reason enough. The scouts are to give all the money they earned fer that prize, but it won't go very far. We need a great deal more, and at once."

"And did the scouts give that money of their own free will?" Jimmy asked. "Did you suggest it to them?"

"No. I never thought about it until Rod came over this mornin' and put the notion into my head."

For some time Jimmy sat toying with the pen he was holding in his hand.

"Why don't ye write that letter?" his father demanded.

"So you say that the girl can't get better unless she goes to a specialist?" his son enquired.

"It's what the doctors say; that's all I know about it. But git on with that letter, will ye?"

"Look here, dad," and Jimmy laid aside the pen. "I'm going to the city in the morning, and suppose I see old Dodge about the matter. It will be much better than writing a letter. I can explain things which I couldn't write."

"Maybe that would be the best way," the captain agreed. "But put it up to him straight, Jimmy. He's a gruff cur at times, but he's got a big heart."

"I'll attend to that, dad. Just leave it to me."

The captain was very restless the next day. He thought that the time for the arrival of the evening boat would never come. Jimmy was to return on her, and suppose Dodge was unwilling to a.s.sist! What would he do? His eyes often turned toward the _Roaring Bess_ riding at anchor before the house. Several times he stood in front of the door and looked out over his few acres of land. What his thoughts were he kept to himself, but the expression, of determination in his eyes told of a man who would not easily be balked in the object upon which he had set his heart and mind.

Captain Josh met Jimmy at the wharf, and the two walked down the road together.

"Well, did ye see Dodge?" the captain eagerly enquired.

"No," was the brief reply.

"No?" the old man repeated, while his heart sank low.

"I didn't see him, and I didn't intend to."

"But what about Whyn, Jimmy? Didn't ye promise me that----"

"Oh, that's all right," and the son gave a short laugh. "I have the money, and isn't that enough?"

"Ye've got the money, ye say?" the captain asked in astonishment, stopping abruptly, and looking keenly into the young man's face.

"Where did ye git it?"

"Don't worry about that, dad. It's honest money, and I'm glad it's to be spent for a good purpose. But for that little song I heard in New York, it would have been all blown in by this time."

"Jimmy, d'ye tell me that it's yer own money?" the captain demanded.

"Or are ye only foolin' me?"

"It was mine, dad, but now it's yours, so here it is," and the son brought forth a big roll of bills from his pocket, and handed it to his father. "Sit down, dad, and see how much is there."

Seating himself upon a stone, the captain spread out the bills upon his knee, by fifties and hundreds.

"A thousand dollars!" he gasped, when he had finished. His hands trembled, and his body shook from the vehemence of his emotion.

"Jimmy----" It was all he could say.

"There, there, dad, that will do," and the son laid his right hand affectionately upon his father's shoulder. "When you want any more, let me know. But don't give that girl a hint where that money came from. Tell her a friend gave it, see? Come, now, let's get home.

Mother will be waiting tea for us."

The captain said very little during supper, and when the meal was over, he sat smoking for some time in deep thought. Then he laid aside his pipe, and went to Whyn's room. He knocked gently upon the door before entering. The girl gave him a wan smile of greeting, and reached out her thin hand. The captain held it for awhile, and Whyn was content to let it remain there.

"How are ye feelin', little one?" he asked.

"Tired," was the reply. "But mamma is coming to-morrow, and I must be better when she is here."

"Sure, sure. But we're goin' to have ye better all the time soon, so keep up courage."

"I'm afraid not," and Whyn gazed sadly and thoughtfully toward the window where the westering sun was casting its beams. "I shall never be better, captain."