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"Why, Jill, are you sure? Where did you hear this?" "At school to-day. Every one was talking about it." "But what is the matter?" "Fever some sort. Some say it's typhoid, and some scarlet, and some say another kind that I can't remember; but everybody says he's awfully sick. He got it down to Glaspell's, some say, and some say he didn't.
"You don't mean Widow Glaspell's Joe, the blind boy? I didn't know he could play." "He couldn't till I showed him. But he likes to hear me play. And he understood right away, I mean." "What I was playing, you know. And he was almost the first one that did since father went away. And now I play every time I go there.
"Then you do know?" he challenged. "Know what?" "The value of that violin in your hands." There was no answer. The boy's eyes were questioning. "The worth, I mean, what it's worth." "Why, no yes that is, it's worth everything to me," answered David, in a puzzled voice. With an impatient gesture John Holly brushed this aside. "But the other one where is that?" "At Joe Glaspell's.
In his mountain home everything the house afforded in the way of food had always been freely given to the few strangers that found their way to the cabin door. So now David had no hesitation in going to Mrs. Holly's pantry for supplies, upon the occasion of his next visit to Joe Glaspell's. Mrs.
Joe is old Peleg Glaspell's grandson." John Holly threw up both his hands. "A Stradivarius to old Peleg's grandson! Oh, ye gods!" he muttered. "Well, I'll be " He did not finish his sentence. At another word from Simeon Holly, David had begun to play. From his seat by the stove Simeon Holly watched his son's face and smiled.
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