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“
Well
,
Mr
.
McLean
said
We
’
d
probably
find
his
son
here
”
“
His
son
!
”
cried
Freckles
.
“
That
’
s
what
he
said
.
And
that
you
would
do
anything
you
could
for
us
;
and
that
we
could
trust
you
with
our
lives
.
But
I
would
have
trusted
you
anyway
,
if
I
hadn
’
t
known
a
thing
about
you
.
Say
,
your
father
is
rampaging
proud
of
you
,
isn
’
t
he
?
”
“
I
don
’
t
know
,
”
answered
the
dazed
Freckles
.
“
Well
,
call
on
me
if
you
want
reliable
information
.
He
’
s
so
proud
of
you
he
is
all
swelled
up
like
the
toad
in
AEsop
’
s
Fables
.
If
you
have
ever
had
an
arm
hurt
like
this
,
and
can
do
anything
,
why
,
for
pity
sake
,
do
it
!
”
She
turned
back
her
sleeve
,
holding
toward
Freckles
an
arm
of
palest
cameo
,
shaped
so
exquisitely
that
no
sculptor
could
have
chiseled
it
.
Freckles
unlocked
his
case
,
and
taking
out
some
cotton
cloth
,
he
tore
it
in
strips
.
Then
he
brought
a
bucket
of
the
cleanest
water
he
could
find
.
She
yielded
herself
to
his
touch
as
a
baby
,
and
he
bathed
away
the
blood
and
bandaged
the
ugly
,
ragged
wound
.
He
finished
his
surgery
by
lapping
the
torn
sleeve
over
the
cloth
and
binding
it
down
with
a
piece
of
twine
,
with
the
Angel
’
s
help
about
the
knots
.
Freckles
worked
with
trembling
fingers
and
a
face
tense
with
earnestness
.
“
Is
it
feeling
any
better
?
”
he
asked
.
