“H’m, I guess I’ve got all I can do to look after myself without trying to do good turns to others,” the woman sniffed.  Nevertheless, when Rod had gone she thought over everything he had said, and for once forgot all about her own troubles.

CHAPTER XIII

THE VISIT

The morning after Rod’s visit to Miss Arabella’s, Mrs. Britt was busy in the kitchen making doughnuts.  The scouts were coming that afternoon, and once a week, at least, she had some treat for them, and she knew what they liked.  Mrs. Britt’s interest in the boys was as keen as her husband’s, and it gave her great pleasure to have them about the house.  Her home life had been very lonely since Jimmy went away, so the shouting of the scouts and their merry laughter brought back other days.

She had just completed frosting a number of doughnuts, and had them all heaped upon a large plate, when the kitchen door was suddenly thrust open, and Miss Arabella burst into the room.  Though the morning was very warm, a thick shawl enwrapped her shoulders, and she wore a heavy winter dress.  Her eyes were wide with fright, and she was trembling so violently that she was forced to sink into the nearest chair.

“Why, Miss Arabella!” Mrs. Britt exclaimed, “are you sick?  You must lie down at once.”

“No, no, I’m not sick,” and the visitor flapped her hands in despair.  “But your husband, Mrs. Britt, your husband, oh, oh!”

“What’s the matter with him?” Mrs. Britt enquired, while her face turned suddenly pale.  “Has anything happened to him?  Tell me quick.”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.  It’s awful.  I didn’t know he was that way.  Has he been troubled long?  You should take him away at once.  I always knew he was queer, but I had no idea he was so bad.”

“Will you please tell me what is the matter?” Mrs. Britt demanded.  “I don’t understand you.  Joshua was all right a few minutes ago.”

“Was he?” and Miss Arabella looked her surprise.  “But you should see him now.  He’s out there in front of the house waving his arms up and down just like this,” and the visitor, forgetting her weakness, leaped to her feet and imitated what she had seen the captain doing.  “He was looking up at the window,” she continued, “and saying things I could not understand.  It sounded as if he was going over his letters, and every once in awhile he would clasp his hands before him like this, and cry ‘brute.’  Oh, it is terrible!”

Mrs. Britt gave a deep sigh of relief, while an amused twinkle shone in her eyes.

“Sit down, Miss Arabella,” she ordered.  “There is nothing wrong with Joshua.  He is practising signalling, that’s all.  Whyn is helping him from her window.  He has to teach the scouts this afternoon, and is brushing up a little.  You see, every time he moves his arms he makes a letter.  The alphabet is divided into groups, and at the end of each group he stops swinging his arms, and clasps his hands before him before making the next group.  That is what Joshua must have been doing which frightened you so much.”