With one hasty glance she gathered the clothing together
and slipped her arm under his head. Freckles lifted his eyes of agony to
hers.
"You see?" he said.
The Angel nodded dumbly.
Freckles turned to McLean.
"Thank you for everything," he panted. "Where are the boys?"
"They are all here," said the Boss, "except a couple who have gone for
doctors, Mrs. Duncan and the Bird Woman."
"It's no use trying to do anything," said Freckles. "You won't forget
the muff and the Christmas box. The muff especial?"
There was a movement above them so pronounced that it attracted
Freckles' attention, even in that extreme hour. He looked up, and a
pleased smile flickered on his drawn face.
"Why, if it ain't me Little Chicken!" he cried hoarsely. "He must be
making his very first trip from the log. Now Duncan can have his big
watering-trough."
"It was Little Chicken that made me late," faltered the Angel. "I was
so anxious to get here early I forgot to bring his breakfast from the
carriage. He must have been hungry, for when I passed the log he started
after me.
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