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I've just been fixing him up comfortably, and he'll be all right after a bit, but he's got to lie very still right where he is and be taken care of." "We kids'll take care o' Mikky!" said Buck proudly. "He tooked care of Jinney when she was sick, an' we'll take care o' Mikky, all right, all right. You jes' brang him out an' we'll fetch a wheelbarry an' cart him off'n yer han's.
Mikky sought his room and laboriously spelled out with lately acquired clumsiness a letter to Buck: "Dear Buck we mussent yuz endecent langwidg enay moor ner swar. God donte lyk it an' it ain't educated. I want you an' me to be educate. I ain't gone to, donte yoo ner let de kids. Mikky."
"Now whut in the divil could he be a wantin' wid Buck an' Sammie?" she muttered to herself. "All that story 'bout his bein' Mikky was puttin' it on my eye, I'll giv warnin' to Sammie this night, an' ef Buck's in these pairts he better git out west some'res. The police uv got onto 'im. But hoiwiver did they know he knowed Mikky? Poor little angel Mikky!
There was something in the woman's tone that went to the heart of the lonely boy, even while he recoiled from the repulsive creature before him. "I am just Mikky, the boy, grown a little older," he said gently, "and I've come back to see the place where I used to live, and find the people I used to know." "Y've lost yer way thin fer shure!" said the woman slightly recovering her equilibrium.
"I couldn't take nothin' great like that and not give de kids any. We'll stick together. I'll stay wid de kids. They needs me." "But Mikky " the man looked into the large determined eyes and settled down for combat "you don't understand, boy. It would be impossible for them to go. I couldn't send them all, but I can send you, and I'm going to, because you risked your life to save little Starr."
The students saw it not, but acknowledged it in their lives. Mikky's flame of gold hair had grown more golden and flaming with the years, so that when their ball team went to a near-by town to play, Mikky was sighted by the crowd and pointed out conspicuously at once. "Who is that boy with the hair?" some one would ask one of the team. "That? Oh, that's the Angel!
"Oh, Buck! If you'd only had my chance!" he moaned. "Never you mind, Mikky! I ain't squealin'. I knows how to take my dose. An' mebbe, they'll be some kind of a collidge whar I'm goin', at I kin get a try at yet don't you fret, little pard ef I git my chancet I'll take it fer your sake!"
We ought to send them word you're doing well?" The boy looked amazed, then a laugh rippled out. "No folks," he gurgled, "on'y jest de kids." "Your brothers and sisters?" asked Endicott puzzled. "None o' dem," said Mikky. "Buck an' me're pards. We fights fer de other kids." "Don't you know it's wrong to fight?" Mikky stared.
Buck was willing to give up Mikky for Mikky's good but not for his own. But it was a terrible sacrifice. The hard little face knotted itself into a fierce expression when he came to say good-bye. The long scrawny throat worked convulsively, the hands gripped each other savagely.
The memory of that golden, fuzzy head, the little appealing fingers, the great blue eyes of his son still lingered bitterly in the father's heart. When he first looked upon this waif the fancy seized him that, perhaps his own boy would have been like this had he lived, and a strange and unexpected tenderness entered his heart for Mikky.
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