Miss
Lady flitted along on the other, telling him about the new football
that was going to be on his bed when he woke up.
Then they halted, and Myrtella bent over him wildly. "Chick!" she
cried, her face suddenly contorted, "look at me just once more! Tell
me you fergive me, Chicky! Oh, if they kill you--!"
The stretcher was shoved hastily into the elevator and the door closed
on everybody but Chick and the nurse and the orderly.
It was about that time that Chick decided to lie down. Where were they
taking him? What were they going to do with him? What did Aunt 'Tella
mean by those strange words? Where had Mis' Squeerington gone? With
sudden quaking terror he looked at the nurse and broke into hoarse
interrogatory sounds.
"Here we are!" she cried soothingly, as the elevator came to a halt.
"And here's Dr. Wyeth waiting for us."
"Well, my little man," said the large figure in white, taking a small
cold hand in his large strong one, "we are going to put you to sleep
and when you wake up, it will be all over. You are pretty game, aren't
you?"
Chick, trying very hard to keep his knees from shaking the sheet,
nodded emphatically.
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