"Kid," he said hoarsely from out the bandages, "This is God's world."
It seemed to be a great thought that he had been all this time
grasping, and had to utter.
"Sure!" said Billy in a low happy growl.
A long time after this, it might have been the next day, he wasn't
sure, or perhaps only a few minutes, he came at another truth: "Kid, you can't get away from God--even when you try."
"I'll say not," said Billy.
"But--when you've sinned--!" speculatively.
"You gotta get it off yer chest."
"You mean--confess?"
"Sure thing. Miss Lynn tells us in Sunday School about a fella in the
Bible got downta eatin' with the pigs in a far country, an' when he
come to himself he thought about his father's servants, an' he said
'I'll get up and beat it home an' say I'm sorry!'"
"I know," said Mark, and was still the rest of the day. But the next
morning he asked the doctor how soon he might get up. This was the
first real indication that Mark was on the mend, and the doctor smiled
with satisfaction. He meant to take off some of the bandages that
morning.
That afternoon with his head unswathed, Mark began to ask questions.
Before that he had seemed to take everything for granted: "Billy, where's the minister?" For Billy have never left his idol's
side except when Aunt Saxon needed him to help.
"Oh, he's up to tha parsonage," responded Billy carelessly.
"But why hasn't he been to see me, Kid?"
"Why--he--hasn't been feelin' very good." Billy's voice was brisk as if
it wasn't a matter of much moment.
Mark turned his thoughtful gray eyes steadily on Billy: "Now, look here, Kid, I'm well, and there's no further need to
camouflage. Billy, is the minister dead?"
"Not on yer tin type, he ain't dead!"
"Well, is he hurt?"
"Well, some," Billy admitted cheerfully.
"Kid, look me in the eye."
Billy raised a saucy eye as well masked as Mark's own could be on
occasion.
"Kid, how much is he hurt! Tell me the truth! If you don't I'll
get right up and go and see."
"I'll tell the world, you won't!" said Billy rising lazily and taking a
gentle menacing step toward the bed.
"Kid!"
"Well--he's some hurt--but he's getting along fine now. He'll be
aw'wright."