“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.

“Where can he sleep?” he asked Margaret.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” she answered.

“Oh, I can sleep ist any place,” said Billy.  “On the floor or anywhere.  Home, I sleep on pa’s coat on a store-box, and Jimmy and Belle they sleep on the storebox, too.  I sleep between them, so’s I don’t roll off and crack my head.  Ain’t you got a storebox and a old coat?”

Wesley arose and opened a folding lounge.  Then he brought an armload of clean horse blankets from a closet.

“These don’t look like the nice white bed a little boy should have, Billy,” he said, “but we’ll make them do.  This will beat a storebox all hollow.”

Billy took a long leap for the lounge.  When he found it bounced, he proceeded to bounce, until he was tired.  By that time the blankets had to be refolded.  Wesley had Billy take one end and help, while both of them seemed to enjoy the job.  Then Billy lay down and curled up in his clothes like a small dog.  But sleep would not come.

Finally he sat up.  He stared around restlessly.  Then he arose, went to Wesley, and leaned against his knee.  He picked up the boy and folded his arms around him.  Billy sighed in rapturous content.

“That bed feels so lost like,” he said.  “Jimmy always jabbed me on one side, and Belle on the other, and so I knew I was there.  Do you know where they are?”

“They are with kind people who gave them a fine supper, a clean bed, and will always take good care of them.”

“I wisht I was—­” Billy hesitated and looked earnestly at Wesley.  “I mean I wish they was here.”

“You are about all I can manage, Billy,” said Wesley.

Billy sat up.  “Can’t she manage anything?” he asked, waving toward Margaret.

“Indeed, yes,” said Wesley.  “She has managed me for twenty years.”

“My, but she made you nice!” said Billy.  “I just love you.  I wisht she’d take Jimmy and Belle and make them nice as you.”

“She isn’t strong enough to do that, Billy.  They will grow into a good boy and girl where they are.”

Billy slid from Wesley’s arms and walked toward Margaret until he reached the middle of the room.  Then he stopped, and at last sat on the floor.  Finally he lay down and closed his eyes.  “This feels more like my bed; if only Jimmy and Belle was here to crowd up a little, so it wasn’t so alone like.”