Bob positively grinned with delight as Grandpa Horton and Sunny Boy shook hands with him and said good-bye.  He looked so happy that Sunny Boy asked his grandfather, when they were out in the street, if Bob wanted to go to school.

“I don’t know about that,” replied Grandpa Horton, “though I think he does.  But Bob’s mother told me he is wild to get in an office.  He wants to learn to use the typewriter.  The poor lad has been staying out of school trying to earn a little money since his father hurt his arm.  That is why he is afraid of policemen, Sunny Boy.  He is really playing hookey, though not for his own pleasure.  Still, we must see that he stays in school and has a fair chance.”

Though Sunny Boy was in a great hurry to get home and tell his mother and his grandma and Harriet about Bob, he was willing to wait while Grandpa Horton stopped at the doctor’s office and left word with the nurse there to have the doctor stop at 674 White Street.  That was the house in which the Parkney family lived.

What a lot Sunny Boy and Grandpa Horton had to tell when they reached home!

“I never heard anything so lucky in my life,” declared Harriet, who always was counted one of the family.  “Mrs. Horton, don’t you think I ought to make some chicken soup for that boy?  If he has a cold he is probably all run down and needs nourishing things to eat.”

“I wonder if I would have time to knit him a sweater before we go home Friday,” said Grandma Horton.  “I could start it anyway, couldn’t I, Olive?  I would love to knit a pure wool sweater for Bob.”

“I must see that he has good clothes to wear to school,” said Mrs. Horton.

Grandpa Horton listened and laughed a little.  He was sitting before the fire, and he held Sunny Boy on his knee.

“What would you like to do for Bob, laddie?” he asked his grandson.  “If you can think of something I’ll give you the money to buy it and you and I will go downtown and shop to-morrow.”

“I’d like to give him skates on shoes, like the ones Blake Garrison has,” said Sunny Boy promptly.  “Bob’s skates were old, rusty ones, and he had ’em tied on with string, Grandpa.  Would skates on shoes cost too much?”

“They certainly would not!” said Grandpa Horton.  “To-morrow morning we’ll go down to the best store selling sporting goods in Centronia and buy the best pair of skates we can find.”

When Mr. Horton came home that night he had to hear all about Bob, of course.  And he was as surprised and pleased as the others had been, and at once began to plan to do something for the boy who had been so kind to his own boy.

“He must go back to school as soon as he is well, and from what Dr. Stacey tells me that will be by the time the vacation is over,” Daddy Horton said.  “I stopped in at the doctor’s office on my way home to-night.  We’ll persuade Bob to go back to school on the promise that he shall come into my office for the summer vacation and be taught shorthand and typing.  Doctor Stacey says Mr. Parkney has overworked himself and must go slow for a year.  I am trying to find him a job where he won’t have heavy work to do.”