Mr. Stubbs's Brother Part 10

"But Abner promised me he'd stay right here," said Toby.

"Well, some other fellows came along, an' he promised to go with them, I s'pose."

"But I don't believe Abner would; he'd keep his promise after he made it."

While they were talking they had gone out of the tent, and Ben started at once towards the crowd around the wagon, for he knew there was no reason why so many men should be there when they had work to do elsewhere.

"Did you go over there to see what was up?" asked the old driver.

"No, I thought they were getting ready to start, an' I could see Abner wasn't there."

"Something's the matter," muttered the old man, as he quickened his pace, and Toby, alarmed by the look on his friend's face, hurried on, hardly daring to breathe.

One look into the wagon around which the men were gathered was sufficient to show why it was that Abner had not remained by the tent as he had promised; for he lay in the bottom of the cart, to all appearances dead, while two of the party were examining him to learn the extent of his injuries.

"What is the matter? How did this boy get hurt?" asked Ben, sternly, as he leaped upon the wagon, and laid his hand over the injured boy's heart.

"He was standing there close by the guy ropes when we were getting ready to let the canvas down. One of the side poles fell and struck him on the head, or shoulder, I don't know which," replied a man.

"It struck him here on the back of the neck," said one of those who were examining the boy, as he turned him half over to expose an ugly-looking wound around which the blood was rapidly settling. "It's a wonder it didn't kill him."

"He hain't dead, is he?" asked Toby, piteously, as he climbed up on one of the wheels and looked over in a frightened way at the little deformed body that lay so still and lifeless.

"No, he hain't dead," said Ben, who had detected a faint pulsation of the heart; "but why didn't some of you send for a doctor when it first happened?"

"We did," replied one of the men. "Some of the village boys were here, and we started them right off."

Almost as the man spoke, Dr. Abbott, one of the physicians of the town, drove up and made his way through the crowd.

Toby, too much alarmed to speak, watched the doctor's every movement as he made an examination of the wounded boy, and listened to the accounts the men gave of the way in which the accident had happened.

"His injuries are not necessarily fatal, but they are very dangerous. He lives at the poor-farm, and should be taken there at once," said the doctor after he had made a slight and almost careless examination.

Toby was anxious that the poor boy should be taken to his home rather than to the comfortless place the doctor had proposed; but he did not dare make the suggestion before asking Uncle Daniel's consent to it. He was about to ask them not to move Abner until he could find his uncle, when Ben whispered something to the doctor that caused him to look at the old driver in surprise.

"I'll ask Uncle Dan'l to take him home with us," said Toby as he slipped down from his high perch and started towards the tent.

"I'll take care of that," said Ben as he went towards the tent with him.

"I had just fixed it with your uncle so's he'd take Abner from the poor-farm an' board him, an' now there's all the more reason why he should do it. You go back an' stay with Abner, an' I'll bring your Uncle Dan'l out."

Then Toby went back to the wagon where the poor little cripple still lay as one dead, while the blood flowed in a tiny stream from one of his arms, where the physician had opened a vein.

Not understanding the reason for this blood-letting, and supposing that the crimson flow was due to the injuries Abner had received, Toby cried out in his fear; but one of the men explained the case to him, and then he waited as patiently as possible for the driver's return.

Both Uncle Daniel and Aunt Olive came out with Ben, and within a very few moments Abner was being carried to the farm-house, in the same wagon that had taken him there before in company with the skeleton and his party, for that famous dinner.

It frightened Toby still more to see the unconscious boy carried into the house by Ben and the doctor as though he were already dead; and when Aunt Olive led them into the best room, where no one had slept since Uncle Daniel's sister died, it seemed as if every one believed Abner could not live, or they would not have carried him there.

Toby hardly knew when Ben went away, or whether he said anything before he left, or, in fact, anything else, so sad and confused was he. He did not even think about Mr. Stubbs's brother, but remained in one corner of the room, almost hidden by one of the flowing chintz curtains, until Uncle Daniel heard him sobbing, and led him away to his room.

"There is good reason to hope Abner will recover," said the old man as he stroked Toby's hair; "but he is in the keeping of the One who never errs, and whatsoever He does is good."

Then Uncle Daniel actually kissed the boy, as he told him to go to bed and go to sleep. Toby went to bed as he was commanded, though it seemed impossible he should sleep while it might be that Abner was dying.

CHAPTER XI

CHANGE OF PLANS

Toby was thoroughly surprised, when he awoke, to find that it was morning, and that his slumber had been as sweet as if nothing had happened. He dressed himself as quickly as possible, and ran down-stairs, and Uncle Daniel told him the doctor had just left, after saying he thought Abner would recover.

It was a sad visit Toby paid Mr. Stubbs's brother that morning; and, as he petted him, the tears came into his eyes when he thought of poor Abner, until he was obliged to leave the monkey to himself, after having tied him so that he could take a short run out of doors.

Then he visited the ponies in the stable, and when he returned to the house he found all his partners in the circus enterprise, as well as several other boys, waiting to hear an account of the accident.

Dr. Abbott had reported that Abner had been injured; but, as he had not given any particulars, the villagers were in a state of anxious uncertainty regarding it.

After Toby had told them all he knew about the matter, and had allowed them to see the monkey and the ponies, which some of them seemed to regard as of more importance than the injured boy, Bob asked:

"Well, now what about our circus?"

"Why, we can't do anything on that till Abner gets well," said Toby, as if surprised that the matter should even be spoken about.

"Why not? He wasn't goin' to do any of the ridin', an' now's the time for us to go ahead while we can remember what they did at the show yesterday. It don't make any difference 'bout our circus if he did get hurt," and Bob looked around at the others as if asking whether they agreed with him or not.

"I think we ought to wait till he gets better," said Joe, "'cause he was goin' in with us, an' it don't seem jest fair to have the show when he's so sick."

"That's foolish," said Ben, with a sneer. "If he hadn't come up to the pasture the other day, you wouldn't thought anything 'bout him, an' he'd been out to the poor-farm where he belongs."

"If he hadn't come up there," said Toby, "I'd never known how lonesome he was, an' I'd gone right on havin' a good time without ever once thinkin' of him. An' if he hadn't come up there, perhaps he wouldn't got hurt, an' it seems almost as if I'd done it to him, 'cause I took him to the circus."

"Don't make a fool of yourself, Toby Tyler!" and Ben Gus.h.i.+ng spoke almost angrily. "You act awful silly 'bout that feller, an' father says he's only a pauper anyway."

"It wouldn't make any difference if he was, 'cause he's a poor lonesome cripple; but he hain't a pauper, for old Ben's goin' to take care of him, an' he pays Uncle Dan'l for lettin' him stay here."

This news was indeed surprising to the boys, and as they fully realized that Abner was under the protection of a "circus man," he rose considerably in their estimation.

They were anxious to know all about the matter, and when Toby told them all he could, they looked at the case in such an entirely different light that Ben Gus.h.i.+ng even offered to go out in the field, where he could be seen from the windows of the room in which Abner lay, and go through his entire acrobatic performance in the hope the sight might do the invalid some good. Leander Leighton also offered to come twice each day and play "Yankee Doodle" with one finger on the accordion, in order to soothe him.

But Toby thought it best to decline both these generous offers; he was glad they had been made, but would have been much better pleased if they had come while it was still believed Abner's only home was at the poorhouse.

When the boys went away, Toby pleaded so hard that Aunt Olive consented to his sitting in the chamber where Abner lay, with the agreement that he should make no noise; and there he remained nearly all the day, as still as any mouse, watching the pale face on which death seemed already to have set its imprint.

Each day for two weeks Toby remained on watch, leaving the room only when it was necessary, and he was at last rewarded by hearing Abner call him by name.

After that, Aunt Olive allowed the two boys to talk a little, and a few days later Mr. Stubbs's brother was brought in to pay his respects to the invalid.