"Yes, Sam, I'm afraid she won't live."

"Is it so bad as that? I do believe," he added, with a sudden change of
tone, "Tom Pinkerton is the meanest boy I ever knew. He is trying to get
your place as captain of the baseball club. He says that if your mother
doesn't live, you will have to go to the poorhouse, for you won't have
any money, and that it will be a disgrace for the club to have a captain
from the poorhouse."

"Did he say that?" asked Frank, indignantly.

"Yes."

"When he tells you that, you may say that I shall never go to the
poorhouse."

"He says his father is going to put you and your sister there."

"All the Deacon Pinkertons in the world can never make me go to the
poorhouse!" said Frank, resolutely.

"Bully for you, Frank! I knew you had spunk."

Frank hurried home. As he entered the little house a neighbor's wife,
who had been watching with his mother, came to meet him.

"Frank," she said, gravely, "you must prepare yourself for sad news.
While you were out your mother had another hemorrhage, and--and--"