brushed it back from his forehead. He caught her hand and held it.
"It's me that's to blame for his gettin' hurt. He won't never speak to me again."
"Yes, he will; he's wantin' to speak to you now. They sent me out to fetch you."
"Me?" he asked, shrinking back. "What's he wantin' with me?"
"He's been out of his head an' callin' for you; he won't go to sleep till he sees you. The doctor said to fetch you in. Come on."
Annie's manner was insistent and Peter rose and followed her.
"Here he is," she whispered, pushing him ahead of her into the darkened room.
Bobby made a half movement to turn as the door creaked, but a quick pain shot through his shoulder and he fell back with a little gasp.
"Take care, Bobby," the nurse warned. "You must n't move or you will hurt that bad arm." Her greeting to Peter was stern. "You may stay five minutes, and mind you don't get
