He poured the
drug, strong enough to do effective work, on a dozen places over that
little body and bandaged all he could. Billy's lips quivered at times,
and his chin jumped, but he did not shed a tear or utter a sound other
than to take a deep interest in the boiling. As Wesley put the small
shirt on the boy, and fastened the trousers, he was ready to reset the
hitching post and mend the fence without a word.
"Now am I clean?" asked Billy.
"Yes, you are clean outside," said Wesley. "There is some dirty blood
in your body, and some bad words in your mouth, that we have to get out,
but that takes time. If we put right things to eat into your stomach
that will do away with the sores, and if you know that I don't like bad
words you won't say them any oftener than you can help, will you Billy?"
Billy leaned against Wesley in apparent indifference.
"I want to see me!" he demanded.
Wesley led the boy into the house, and lifted him to a mirror.
"My, I'm purty good-looking, ain't I?" bragged Billy. Then as Wesley
stooped to set him on the floor Billy's lips passed close to the big
man's ear and hastily whispered a vehement "No!" as he ran for the door.
"How long until supper, Margaret?" asked Wesley as he followed.
"You are going to keep him for supper?" she asked
"Sure!" said Wesley. "That's what I brought him for. It's likely he
never had a good square meal of decent food in his life. He's starved to
the bone.
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