Wanted--A Match Maker | Page 6

lips trembling, with the pain the movement cost him.
Not understanding the fear in the boy's mind, Constance put her free hand down and tried to assist him; but the instant he felt her fingers, his tightened violently. "Youse guv it me," he wailed. "Didn't she guv it me?" he appealed desperately to the policeman.
"I'm only trying to help put it in your pocket," explained the girl.
"Ah, chase youseself!" exclaimed the doubter, contemptuously. "Dat don't go wid me. Nah!"
"What doesn't go?" bewilderedly questioned Miss Durant.
"Wotcher tink youse up aginst? Suttin' easy? Well, I guess not! Youse don't get youse pickers in me pocket on dat racket."
"She ain't goin' to take none of your money!" asserted the policeman, indignantly. "Can't you tell a real lady when you see her?"
"Den let her quit tryin' to go tru me," protested the anxious capitalist; and Constance desisted from her misinterpreted attempt, with a laugh which died as the little fellow, at last successful in his endeavour to secrete the money, moaned again at the pain it cost him.
"Shall we never get there?" she demanded impatiently, and, as if an answer were granted her, the carriage slowed, and turning, passed into a porte-cochère, in which the shoes of the horses rang out sharply, and halted.
"Stay quiet a bit, mum," advised the policeman, as he got out; and Constance remained, still supporting the urchin, until two men with a stretcher appeared, upon which they lifted the little sufferer, who screamed with pain that even this gentlest of handling cost him.
Her heart wrung with sympathy for him, Miss Durant followed after them into the reception-ward. At the door she hesitated, in doubt as to whether it was right or proper for her to follow, till the sight of a nurse reassured her, and she entered; but her boldness carried her no farther than to stand quietly while the orderlies set down the litter. Without a moment's delay the nurse knelt beside the boy, and with her scissors began slitting up the sleeves of the tattered coat.
"Hey! Wotcher up to?" demanded the waif, suspiciously.
"I'm getting you ready for the doctor," said the nurse, soothingly. "It's all right."
"Toin't nuttin' of de sort," moaned the boy. "Youse spoilin' me cloes, an' if youse wuzn't a loidy, you'd get youse face poked in, dat's wot would happen to youse."
Constance came forward and laid her hand on the little fellow's cheek. "Don't mind," she said, "and I'll give you a new suit of clothes."
"Wen?" came the quick question.
"To-morrow."
"Does youse mean dat? Honest? Dere oin't no string to dis?"
"Honest," echoed the girl, heartily.
Reassured, the boy lay quietly while the nurse completed the dismemberment of the ragged coat, the apology for a shirt, and the bit of twine which served in lieu of suspenders. But the moment she began on the trousers, the wail was renewed.
"Quit, I say, or I'll soak de two of youse; see if I don't. Ah, won't youse--" The words became inarticulate howls which the prayers and assurances of the two women could not lessen.
"Now, then, stop this noise and tell me what is the matter," ordered a masculine voice; and turning from the boy, Constance found a tall, strong-featured man with tired-looking eyes standing at the other side of the litter.
Hopeful that the diversion might mean assistance, the waif's howls once more became lingual. "Dey's tryin' to swipe me money, boss," he whined. "Hope I may die if deys oin't."
"And where is your money?" asked the doctor.
"Wotcher want to know for?" demanded the urchin, with recurrent suspicion in his face.
"It's in the pocket of his trousers, Dr. Armstrong," said the nurse.
Without the slightest attempt to reassure the boy, the doctor forced loose the boy's hold on the pocket, and inserting his hand, drew out the ten-dollar bill and a medley of small coins.
"Now," he said, "I've taken your money, so they can't. Understand?"
The urchin began to snivel.
"Ah, you have no right to be so cruel to him," protested Miss Durant. "It's perfectly natural. Just think how we would feel if we didn't understand."
The doctor fumbled for his eye-glasses, but not finding them quickly enough, squinted his eyelids in an endeavour to see the speaker. "And who are you?" he demanded.
"Why, I am--that is--I am Miss Durant, and--" stuttered the girl.
Not giving her time to finish her speech, Dr. Armstrong asked, "Why are you here?" while searching for his glasses.
"I did not mean to intrude," explained Constance, flushing, "only it was my fault, and it hurts me to see him suffer more than seems necessary."
Abandoning the search for his glasses, and apparently unheeding of her explanation, the doctor began a hasty examination of the now naked boy, passing his hand over trunk and limbs with a firm touch that paid no heed to the child's outcries, though each turned the onlooker