"Come in," called a man's voice.

Sunny Boy clung to Grandpa Horton's coat and stared around him. They
had stepped into a room that did not look like any room he had ever
seen before. There were no chairs at all and only one table. A stove
in one corner had a good fire in it, and a man, with one arm in a
sling, sat near it, on a soap box.

"How do you do, Mr. Parkney?" said Grandpa Horton cheerfully. "This is
my little grandson, Sunny Boy. He wanted to see your children and wish
them a Happy New Year."

The man smiled at Sunny Boy and Mrs. Parkney came out of the other room
when she heard the voices.

"I believe I'm better," Mr. Parkney declared. "And I've decided to go
to the doctor as you said, Mr. Horton. Perhaps if I get this arm well
and get a job, I can pay back all you've done for me."

"Why, certainly you can," said Grandpa Horton. "Or you can give some
one else a lift, which will be better. Now I want to talk to you and
Mrs. Parkney a few minutes. But where are the children? Sunny Boy has
something for them."

"They've all gone out, except Bob, of course," replied Mrs. Parkney.

"Well, then, Sunny Boy, suppose you go in and wish Bob a Happy New
Year," suggested Grandpa Horton. "Take him his candy and cakes and the
baseball game you brought him."