"Well, we didn't hear you, you beggar," cried Jasper. "Come, get in with
you"--putting out both hands to assist in the process. "Where have you
been, Joe?" for old Mr. King was beyond talking.
"I've been--" began Joel, glad enough to hop in; "why, where--" as his
black eyes fell on the boy in the corner.
Frick had tried to swarm all over him, but Joel put out an unsteady hand.
"I came to tell," said the boy, seeing he was expected to say something.
"Oh, don't," cried Joel involuntarily; "'tisn't any matter; I don't care."
"Well, it's all out, Joe," said Jasper affectionately, who couldn't stop
patting his back. Frick flew over to the opposite side and let Joel snuggle
up to the old gentleman. "I'm here, Grandpapa," he said happily.
"Oh, bless me! Yes, my boy!" said old Mr. King brokenly, and fondling the
little brown hands. "Well, we must get you home and out of these wet
clothes as soon as possible. I don't know what your mother will say. Oh,
dear me, Joe!"
"Pooh!" cried Joel, "I'm not wet."
"You're wet as a drowned rat, Joe," declared Jasper, bursting into a laugh,
which was such a relief to all concerned that in a minute it really seemed
like a pleasure excursion. But Joel pulled himself up.
"Oh, I'm going to see what's the matter with Jack's arm," and he leaned
over and put his hand on it.
"Nothing," said Jack, trying to pull it away, but Joel held on.
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