* * * * *
Long after they were gone Everett sat planning a future course. He felt sure that Horace would not allow the children to be taken from him without a fight; he knew there were special statutes governing these things, and took down a large book and began to read.
Much to his satisfaction, Brimbecomb found a letter from Mr. and Mrs. Brimbecomb awaiting him at home that evening. In it his foster mother informed him that they had decided to return to Tarrytown immediately and make ready for a trip abroad, where they hoped that Mr. Brimbecomb would recover his health. In a postscript from the noted lawyer, Everett read: I am glad that you are doing well, dear boy, and when my doctor said that I must have a complete rest I knew that I could leave you in charge of the office and go away satisfied.
There followed a few personalities, and after finishing the reader threw it down with a smile. He had hesitated a moment over the thought that his father would have a decided objection to the Cronk case. But his desire to work against Horace had overcome his irresolution. Now his way was clear! The sooner Mr. and Mrs. Brimbecomb were away, the better pleased he would be.
* * * * *
Floyd was suddenly taken worse.
"I think, if you were to come and speak with him, he might feel better," said Ann to Horace. "He wants to see you. Fledra is with him."
Floyd was quiet now, his large eyes closed with quivering pain.
"Floyd!" murmured Horace, touching the lad gently.
The lids lifted, and he put up his hand.
"I'm glad ye come, Brother Horace," he said in a whisper. "I've been wantin' to talk to ye. Will ye take Flea out, Sister Ann?"
Both girls left the room, as Horace drew a chair to the bed.
"I ain't goin' to get well," said Flukey slowly. "I know the doctor thinks so, too, 'cause he said there was somethin' the matter with my heart. And I have to go and leave Flea."
Shellington took the thin, white hand in his.
"You must not become downhearted, boy; that's not the way to get well. And you're certainly better than when you came, in spite of this little setback."
Floyd closed his eyes, and Horace saw silent tears rolling down the boy's cheeks. The young man bent over him.
"Floyd, are you worrying about your sister?"
Flukey nodded an affirmative.
"Why?"
"Because she ain't the same as she was. And she ain't happy any more, and I can't make her tell me. Have ye been ugly to her--have ye?"