CHAPTER XXX. A HERO REWARDED

  A week later Lena May was in the sunny kitchen of the Pensinger mansionmaking broth. A curly-headed three-year-old boy was sitting on the floorplaying contentedly with his toys. He had been told that his mother hadgone to a beautiful country where she would be well and happy and thatsome day he would see her again.

  "Muvver likes Tony to stay wiv you, Auntie May," he prattled as the girlstooped to kiss him. Then, as he suddenly reached up his chubby arms, headded: "Tony likes to stay wiv you."

  "There, now, the broth's ready and Tony may help Auntie May," she toldhim. The little fellow was given a plate of crackers and the girlfollowed with a bowl of steaming refreshment. They went to Bobs' room,where a lad was lying in bed.

  Once again Dean Wiggin had fought a fire for the sake of a friend, butthis time had undone the harm that had been done in the long ago. Eventhe surgeon who had been called in declared that the way the lad hadwrenched his arm free and had actually used it was little less than amiracle; but, all through the ages, people who with a high purpose havecalled upon God for help, have received it, and that help has been nameda miracle.

  "See, Lena May," the lad said as he stretched out his left arm, "itmoves, doesn't it? Stiffly, perhaps, but I must keep it going, the doctortold me." Then he drew himself into a sitting position and the girlraised the pillows to make him comfortable.

  He smiled at her beamingly as he said: "Another bit of good news is thattomorrow I may get up. Just because one wall of a burning tenement fellon me is no reason why I should remain in bed longer than one week and bewaited upon."

  "You surely had a wonderful escape, Dean," the girl said as she gave himthe broth. "Just by chance the firemen instantly turned the water whereyou had fallen and so you weren't burned."

  "Nor drowned," the lad said merrily, "just knocked senseless." Then,after a moment's pause, he continued: "I want to be up and about beforeNell returns. She will be in about noon tomorrow. Unless it got into theNew England papers, which isn't likely, she won't know a thing about it.I don't want her to hear of it before I tell her. She would imagine allsorts of things that aren't true, and be needlessly worried."

  "How glad your sister will be when she finds that the use of your arm hasbeen restored to you." Lena May sat by the bedside holding Tony on herlap.

  "Won't she?" Dean's upward glance was radiant. "No longer will I have tofollow the profession of old book-seller. I want to do something thatwill keep that arm constantly busy."

  "What, Dean, have you thought?"

  "Yes, indeed. You won't think it a very wonderful ambition. I want to bea farmer. I don't like this crowded city. I feel as though I can'tbreathe. When I am lying here alone, I keep thinking of the New Englandfarm where my boyhood was spent, and I long to really work in that rockysoil, standing up now and then to breathe deep of that sparkling air andto gaze at that wide view over the meadow-lands, and the shining, curvingsilver ribbon, that is really a river, to the distant mountains. LenaMay, how I wish you could see it with me."

  "I am sure that I would love it," the girl said, then, rising, she added:"Here comes Gloria and Mr. Hardinian. They are going to hear someHungarian music tonight, and I promised to have an early supper for them.Tony may stay with you. I am sure he would like to hear a story about thelittle wild creatures who live on your farm."

  But, when the girl was gone, the little fellow accommodatingly curled upby Dean's side and went to sleep, and so the lad's thoughts were leftfree to dream of a wonderful something that might happen some day on thatfar-away New England farm.