Where did
you swipe the yellow shoes?"
"Just wearing them temporarily until I can step into yours as stroke
of the crew!" called back Bob good-naturedly.
A shout went up from the boys who had heard the sally.
For nearly a week the school grounds were a-hum with voices. Then
things began to settle down into the regular yearly routine. In
spite of the stiff program ahead Van managed to spend some part of
each day, if only a few moments of it, with Tim McGrew. How much
there was to tell! Three months had worked marvels in the little
fellow and it was a pleasure to see how his strength was returning.
"The doctor thinks there's a chance I may walk yet, Mr. Blake!"
exclaimed the child. "He doesn't promise it, mind; he just says
maybe things won't turn out as bad as we thought at first. I heard
him tell Ma that perhaps later if I was to be operated on maybe I'd
pull through and surprise everybody. Think of it! Think what it
means to know there is even a chance. Wouldn't it be wonderful if I
should walk again some time?"
Catching the glow in the wistful face Van's own beamed.
"You'll have us all fooled yet, Tim," he cried, "and be prancing
round here like a young Kentucky colt--see if you don't."
The lads chuckled together.
Van was bubbling over with high spirits when he left Tim that
afternoon and there was nothing to herald the approach of the
calamity that fell like a thunderbolt upon him. It was late at night
when the illness developed that so alarmed Bob Carlton that it sent
him rushing to the telephone to call up the head master.
Pages:
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110