“There, there, dad, that will do,” and the son laid his right hand affectionately upon his father’s shoulder.  “When you want any more, let me know.  But don’t give that girl a hint where that money came from.  Tell her a friend gave it, see?  Come, now, let’s get home.  Mother will be waiting tea for us.”

The captain said very little during supper, and when the meal was over, he sat smoking for some time in deep thought.  Then he laid aside his pipe, and went to Whyn’s room.  He knocked gently upon the door before entering.  The girl gave him a wan smile of greeting, and reached out her thin hand.  The captain held it for awhile, and Whyn was content to let it remain there.

“How are ye feelin’, little one?” he asked.

“Tired,” was the reply.  “But mamma is coming to-morrow, and I must be better when she is here.”

“Sure, sure.  But we’re goin’ to have ye better all the time soon, so keep up courage.”

“I’m afraid not,” and Whyn gazed sadly and thoughtfully toward the window where the westering sun was casting its beams.  “I shall never be better, captain.”

“Tut, tut.  Don’t say sich a thing.”

“But I know it, so what’s the use of pretending?  Didn’t the doctors say that I can’t get better unless I go to a specialist?”

“Well, why can’t ye go?” the captain queried.  “What’s to hinder ye?”

“It’s the want of money,” was the slow reply.  “It would cost so much, and we are poor.  I know that Douglas would help if he could, but he can’t do much now.”

“But suppose ye had the money, and could go, would it make ye happy?”

“Don’t tease me, captain,” and the girl gave the hard hand which was holding hers an affectionate little squeeze.

“I’m not, Whyn, really I’m not.  The scouts are goin’ to send ye.”

“Captain Josh!”

“There now, never mind any of yer exclaimin’.  I knew it would surprise ye.  Yes, the scouts have decided to send ye to a specialist.  Everything is all arranged.”

“But I can’t allow it, captain,” Whyn protested.  “Do they mean to take their money and use it upon me?”

“Yes, that’s jist what they’re goin’ to do.”

“But what about the prize, and the motorboat?”

“Don’t ye worry about sich things.  That matter is all settled.  The boys love ye so much that
they’re willin’ to do anything.”

Whyn lay very still for awhile, her eyes moist with tears.  The captain, sitting by her side, watched her in silence.

“It is too much for them to do,” the girl at last murmured.

“Oh, not at all,” the captain replied.  “They are only lendin’ ye the money, and ye kin pay them back when ye git well and write that book of yours.”

“How lovely that will be!” and Whyn clasped her hands before her in delight, something like her old manner.  “It will take some time, though.  But I shall do it, and the first money I get shall go to the scouts.”