"If you'd cared to look at his body, you'd know that you couldn't find a
place to strike without cutting into a raw spot," said Wesley. "Besides,
Billy has not done a thing for which a child should be punished. He is
only full of life, no training, and with a boy's love of mischief. He
did abuse your kittens, but an hour before I saw him risk his life to
save one from being run over. He minds what you tell him, and doesn't
do anything he is told not to. He thinks of his brother and sister right
away when anything pleases him. He took that stinging medicine with the
grit of a bulldog. He is just a bully little chap, and I love him."

"Oh good heavens!" cried Margaret, going into the house as she spoke.

Sinton sat still. At last Billy tired of the swing, came to him and
leaned his slight body against the big knee.

"Am I going to sleep here?" he asked.

"Sure you are!" said Sinton.

Billy swung his feet as he laid across Wesley's knee. "Come on," said
Wesley, "I must clean you up for bed."

"You have to be just awful clean here," announced Billy. "I like to be
clean, you feel so good, after the hurt is over."

Sinton registered that remark, and worked with especial tenderness as
he redressed the ailing places and washed the dust from Billy's feet and
hands.