Part 21 (1/2)

”Elliott did it for me. Do you like it?”

Stannard nodded. ”Good work!”

Father Bob, his attention aroused, inspected the three with new interest in his sober eyes. He said nothing then, but after supper his hand fell on Elliott's shoulder approvingly.

”Well done, little girl! That's the right way. Face the music with your chin up.”

Elliott felt exactly as though some one had stiffened her spine. The least little doubt had been creeping into her mind lest what she had done had been heartless. Father Bob's words put that qualm at rest.

And, of course, good news would come from Sidney in the morning.

But courage has a way of ebbing in spite of one. It was dark and very cold when a forlorn little figure appeared beside Elliott's bed.

”I can't go to sleep. Trudy's asleep. I can hear her. I think I am going to cry again.”

Elliott sat up. What should she do? What would Aunt Jessica do?

”Come in here and cry on me.”

Priscilla climbed in between the sheets and Elliott put both arms around the little girl. Priscilla snuggled close.

”I tried to think--the way you said, but I can't. _Is_ Sidney--”

sniffle--”going to die--” sniffle--”like Ted Gordon?”

”No,” said Elliott, who a minute ago had been afraid of the very same thing. ”No, I am perfectly positive he is going to get well.”

Just saying the words seemed to help, somehow.

Priscilla snuggled closer. ”You're awful comforting. A person gets scared at night.”

”A person does, indeed.”

”Not so much when you've got company,” said Priscilla.

The warmth of the little body in her arms struck through to Elliott's own s.h.i.+vering heart. ”Not half so much when you've got company,” she acknowledged.

CHAPTER XI

MISSING

Sure enough, in the morning came better news. Father Bob's face, when he turned around from the telephone, told that, even before he opened his lips.

”Sidney is holding his own,” he said.

You may think that wasn't much better news, but it meant a great deal to the Camerons. ”Sidney is holding his own,” they told every one who inquired, and their faces were hopeful. If Father Bob had any fears, he kept them to himself. The rest of the Camerons were young and it didn't seem possible to them that Sidney could do anything but get well. Last night had been a bad dream, that was all.

The next morning's message had the word ”better” in it. ”Little” stood before ”better,” but n.o.body, not even Father Bob, paid much attention to ”little.” Sidney was better. It was a week before Mother Jess wrote that the doctors p.r.o.nounced him out of danger and that she and Laura would soon be home. Meanwhile, many things had happened.

You might have thought that Sidney's illness was enough trouble to come to the Camerons at one time, but as Bruce quoted with a twist in his smile, ”It never rains but it pours.” This time Bruce himself got the message which came from the War Department and read: